


An example from the OED: I will always ship Sherlock and Molly!

by WeLoveSherlolly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:40:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 30,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeLoveSherlolly/pseuds/WeLoveSherlolly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically me filling prompts from Tumblr, each chapter will be a new prompt.<br/>They will all be posted on Tumblr as well of course ^^</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The move

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Sherlock moves Molly in with him after finally getting rid of Moriarty, and he falls in love with her, slowly but surely.

Molly was in a deep sleep, still on medicine after the last encounter with Moriarty, who was now – finally – out of their lives for good, Sherlock had made sure of it this time. Molly had gone straight to bed when she returned from the hospital; she had several bruises, two broken ribs, and a sprained wrist.

Molly woke up after many hours of sleep, feeling somewhat rested, but still a tiny bit drowsy. She yawned, got up, and stretched, that’s when she noticed the difference, she wasn’t in her room, her belongings were there, but it wasn’t her room, she closed her eyes, breathed in, and screamed.

All of a sudden she was back in the dark room, back on the chair, bound at her wrist and ankles, and Moriarty was laughing in her face, she could feel a chill running through her, his hand raised to her face, whispering her name, getting louder with every breath she took, he started shaking her.

She realised his voice had changed, he sounded so much like Sherlock now, calling her name, his voice, was it nervous? ‘Sherlock’ she called, she could see him now, he looked scared, and his eyes were solely fixed on her. ‘What’s going on, Sherlock?’ She could tell she’d been dreaming, but why was she still in the strange room?

‘You fainted Molly,’ he replied simply, she rolled her eyes at his obvious statement, ‘yes I realise that Sherlock’ she picked herself off of the floor and went back to her bed, her headache was back stronger than ever. ‘But where am I, and what are you doing here, because obviously i’m not dreaming right now,’ she snapped at the detective.

‘You’re at Baker Street of course,’ he told her matter of factly, her brows furrowed, ‘why am I at Baker Street, and why are all my things here?’ She asked him confusedly, ‘I moved it here, I found it would be easier for me to protect you if you were to stay here, obviously,’ was the detectives answer.

Molly found herself staring at Sherlock with her mouth hanging open, ‘I don’t understand, who do I need your protection from?’ She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Sherlock had somehow moved not only her belongings, but her, all while she had been asleep. And most of all, she couldn’t wrap her head around, why?

‘Your importance to me has unfortunately become very clear to people after Moriarty’s return, the next person to come after me won’t make the same mistake, therefore you living here is the most obvious solution’ he gave her a satisfied nod before leaving her in what was now apparently her room.

Surprisingly enough Molly found herself at ease living with Sherlock, sure he pouted and moped around when he had no cases, but Molly made sure to bring home more body parts, engaging him in as many experiments as possible, Mrs. Hudson had found herself too scared to open the fridge anymore after having encountered a severed head, one which Sherlock had been most happy about.

Whenever John stopped by, the two would always be emerged over Sherlocks chemistry set, sometimes giggling over some obvious – to them – joke. Usually he had stopped by to fill Sherlocks fridge, he knew Mrs. Hudson sometimes did the same, but since Molly had moved in, it was always full, as it turned out, Molly loved to cook.

John found himself laughing when he saw Molly feeding Sherlock food, without the detective seeming to realise, ‘he’s on a case, so you can’t tell him’ she’d told the doctor, ‘he doesn’t know he’s eating when he’s in his mind palace, i’ve noticed whenever I bring him coffee, he’ll just drink it without thinking about it,’ she’d told him, John found that he liked Molly just that little bit more than usual. He’d kissed her cheek before leaving the apartment.

A month had gone by and nothing much had changed, Molly had been at work, Sherlock had come by, acting like he was her superior as always, he’d done some experiments, told Greg about one of the interns stealing medicine, and causing another intern to run away crying, Molly had scolded him, and she was still angry at the detective when she got home, the poor girl had just lost her mother, and Sherlock had been very rude to her.

Molly had gone straight to her room, returning just before midnight, she was exhausted, four autopsies, an incident with an experiment, and two interns gone, she’d had to do all the work by herself. She got under her covers after having shed of her clothes, throwing on a random t-shirt from her closet, she pulled her blanket close when she finally hit her bed, and soon drifted off to sleep, oblivious to the detective next to her.

When Molly woke up she was confused, which unfortunately seemed to happen quite often recently, first of all, she was pretty sure she was in her room, however she couldn’t remember coming home with a guy, which is why the arm draped over her waist was something she couldn’t really understand. Whoever it was pulled her tighter as she went over who it could be, and his nose snuggled into the nape of her neck, it was without doubt a man, his hands were big and calloused, come to think of it, as she looked at them, they seemed familiar.

Sherlock, Sherlock was the one in her bed, she sighed, making the detective stir slightly. ‘Why are you in my bed Sherlock,’ Molly asked loud enough to wake his sleeping form. ‘Warm,’ he grumbled against her back, ‘you do realise you have a bed of your own, equally warm right?’ she inquired. ‘Shut up Molly, i’m trying to sleep.’ His voice was hoarse from sleeping, she let out a puff of air at the impossible man, she turned around and threw her pillow in his face.

He snapped open his eyes, she couldn’t help giggling at his obvious pout, and she only started laughing more when he crossed his arms, ‘that was entirely unnecessary Molly’ he scoffed, ‘maybe Sherlock, but it was still very satisfactory,’ she laughed, smirking at the obvious smile playing at his mouth. ‘Now are you going to really answer me what you’re doing in my bed, or are you sticking with warm.’ She questioned, looking directly at the detective, and praising herself for never stammering or stuttering around him anymore.

He looked nervous all of a sudden, and she realised it might be a question he might not be completely comfortable answering honestly. She brought her hand to his shoulder, ‘it’s okay, you don’t have to answer, tea?’ She decided on making breakfast, it was a task she knew well, and maybe she had to think some things over, because something in her relationship with Sherlock had changed recently, she knew it, and as did he.

He didn’t answer, but she took it as a silent yes, so she scooted to the side of her bed, when his hand caught her wrist, she took in a deep breath, and closed her eyes, she said nothing, waiting for Sherlock to start talking. ‘I’m not sure when it happened Molly, i’ve walked through my mind palace more times than I care to say, and I can’t solve the mystery.’ He took a breath, she felt his exhale on her shoulder, only now realising how close he was to her, ‘I think you’ve crept up on me, you’re everywhere, but i’ve come to realise, it doesn’t slow me down as I thought it would,’ his lips were in her neck now, and she tilted her head slightly, she let out a soft breath of air, relishing the feeling of his soft lips against her skin.

‘I might hurt you, actually I will hurt you, on many occasions, and all I can offer you is me, me as i’ve always been,’ he’d finished now, Molly knew, she always knew when it came to Sherlock, she turned her head to finally look at him, and took a steadying breath, cautiously lifting her hand to his face, watching as he closed his eyes at the touch. ‘I know you’ll hurt me Sherlock, you have done so already ....... But i’ve always forgiven you, haven’t I? Maybe it’s my curse, to always forgive you, but you’re offering me the only thing i’ve ever wanted, so who am I to say no? She smiled as he reopened his eyes to look at her.

In seconds he had closed the distance between them, and everything seemed to fade away, Molly knew about the possible dangers of being in his life, from his enemies, and from him, but with his lips pressed against hers, and with his hand around her waist, and the other tangled in her hair, Molly couldn’t find it in her to care about anything whatsoever.


	2. Caught in the act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Teen!lock. Teen Sherlock and Molly caught kissing by whoever you want

Mary and John were on their way home from a date, they’d been at Angelo’s, it had been their favourite place to come after Sherlock had taken them there. ‘Ugh I ate way too much,’ Mary complained, John chuckled, ‘Mary you always eat too much,’ she slapped him softly on the arm, but started giggling, he was right of course.

John took his giggling girlfriends hand in his, swaying it lightly, he’d never been this comfortable with any girl, and even though they were still young, and it wasn’t something he was actually supposed to think about, but he desperately wanted her to be the one, he thought about Sherlock, his best friend would without doubt scoff at the sentiment.

Sherlock despised anything even remotely close to sentiment, he’d said on more occasions than John could think of that love was simply a chemical defect found in the losing side, John of course disagreed. Mary noticed her boyfriend fiddling with a piece of litter in his pocket, and took his hand, ‘what are you so worried about?’ She enquired, smiling gently at him.

The truth was that John was worried, he wanted to ask Mary to move in with him, but on the other hand he was nervous about Sherlock, he was never good with change, he remembered when Molly had come in to their lives, it had only been the two of them for a long time, but Molly had pushed her way into their lives, ignoring Sherlocks obvious rudeness towards her, which in time had showed him what a strong kind of girl she was, and in the end, she had become a part of their group.

‘Well I have something i’d like to ask you, but i’m a tiny bit worried,’ John confessed to his girlfriend, she smirked, she’d known he’d wanted to ask her to move in with him for quite some time now, but she understood his hesitation, so she’d chosen not to push him, however much she wanted to live with him too.

‘I know John, talk to Sherlock first, and you know, maybe just start spending a bit more time at my place, maybe ease him into living alone, that might be the best idea, we’ll just take it slow.’ John loved her just a tiny bit more, she was so understanding, and smart, he stopped abruptly pulling her to him for a passionate kiss, she giggled against his mouth.

They finally returned to John and Sherlocks apartment at 221B Baker Street, kissing and giggling as they went up the stairs to Johns room, they shed of most of their clothes and went to bed, both had an early morning, so they decided to go to sleep, Mary woke at about two in the middle of the night, she wasn’t sure why, but decided it had to be because she was thirsty.

She slowly moved out of the bed and down the stairs to the kitchen, her nose crinkled as a chemical odour spread when she opened the door, Sherlock was obviously still up doing one of his silly experiments, Mary stilled when she heard giggling, female giggling, and Sherlock chuckling – when did Sherlock ever chuckle? – Mary silently moved further into the apartment, and the sight that met her made her smile.

She quickly forgot about the water and ran as quietly up the stairs as she could, waking her boyfriend, he grumbled and turned over as she shook him, ‘John wake up, I have to show you something’ Mary was a happy person, and yet he’d never heard her more excited than right now, in the middle of the bloody night. He got up very much against his will, and let his girlfriend drag him down the stairs.

He watched as she tiptoed into the apartment, and found himself mirroring her moves, he rolled his eyes, but kept up the silent pace none the less, Mary was absolutely ecstatic, jumping up and down silently, when John slowly reached her side he saw why, Sherlock had an experiment running, but he was paying absolutely no attention to it.

Molly was placed on the kitchen table, Sherlock between her legs, and – John had no other way of describing it – snogging the brains out of her. Johns mouth had fallen open, and Mary had to stifle a giggle at the look of him, ‘well’ John exclaimed, ‘I suppose he’s not going to have a problem with me moving out after all.’ Mary smiled, took his hand and led him away from the couple snogging in the kitchen, he certainly wasn’t going to interrupt them, even though he was a bit disappointed Sherlock hadn’t told him, but then again, knowing Sherlock and sentiment, he kind of understood.


	3. Tricky christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt! Sherlock trying to trick Molly into kissing him, Molly being oblivious (or totally aware, just torturing him a bit). Pre-relationship, if you can! Pretty please?

It was the first Christmas since Moriarty had been around the second time, Molly and Sherlock had slowly started to become friends again, John and Mary getting through their troubles, and juggling the arrival of their little baby girl Sunny Watson.

Instead of staying at Baker Street like they had that one horrid Christmas, they had all chosen to go to the St. Barts Christmas party, well mostly all of them, Sherlock had protested of course, but eventually Mary had convinced the reluctant detective.

It was a suit and tie occasion, Mary had found her favourite green silk dress, it draped beautifully around her body, clinging in the right places, making her feel sexy, but comfortable, John fashion his tie to match the colour of her dress, and Mary felt like a million dollars walking into the hospital next to her husband.

The couple walked through the doors with Sherlock following them a bit in the distance, but stopped as he nearly walked into John. ‘Blimey, she looks gorgeous,’ Sherlock followed Johns gaze to the dance floor, Molly was dancing with a man Sherlock didn’t recognise, he was obviously a new doctor at Barts, and already Sherlock didn’t like him.

Even though Molly was smiling, it was quite obvious she wasn’t comfortable dancing with the man, so of course Sherlock found it to be only understandable that he cut in, maybe she’d even kiss him for saving her, kiss! where did that come from?

Molly was wearing a floor length amethyst dress, the smooth fabric of the dress clung to her body, a flowery lace encircling her shoulders and back, while the slit gave a look to her long legs, Sherlock suddenly wondered why he had ever thought her breasts to be too small, because as he watched her float over the dance floor, he couldn’t seem to find one single fault.

He barged over as the two came to a halt, the song had ended, and Sherlock stepped in front of the offending man, blocking him completely from Molly’s view. ‘Oh hello Sherlock, I didn’t realise you would be participating, last I heard you were pouting,’ she smiled at him, and he knew she was kidding, he just gave her a curt nod and took hold of her elbow, trying to drag her along.

‘Oh Sherlock, I was actually dancing with David,’ she pointed at the man she had been dancing with, a man who was looking sour at the detectives sudden interruption. ‘Come now Molly, it’s obvious you were uncomfortable dancing with him, you’ll be much more delighted to be in a conversation with me.’ He stated matter of factly.

Molly rolled her eyes, slowly following Sherlock away from David, sending the man an apologetic look before turning back to Sherlock. He’d led her to John and Mary, both were smiling widely at her, and Mary soon embraced her in a hug. ‘You look gorgeous, and who is that yummy guy you were dancing with?’ Mary questioned.

Sherlock observed Molly as the two women talked and giggled, ‘i’ve actually got a date with him, he’s taking me out to eat.’ Her smile was beautiful and natural on her face, beautiful and natural? Sherlock shook his head, sentiment, why did it always interfere?

Sherlock blocked out the two chatting women to gaze around the room, there was a Christmas tree, decorated with all sorts of shimmering and glittering knick knack, garlands hanging in the windows, he spotted a few mistletoes hanging about as well, he scoffed, if there was anything Sherlock hated almost as much as sentiment, it was these silly traditions.

However, as he watched his pathologist walking towards David once again, he suddenly saw the enjoyment of such a tradition. He walked swiftly over to Molly, ‘you look like you need some fresh air Molly,’ he said as he dragged her towards the hallway, remembering the mistletoe hanging by itself far away from any curious eyes.

He walked casually – or what he hoped was casually – towards the mistletoe, inconspicuously placing himself under the traditional herb, Molly raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, well not really actually, for some time she’d noticed the detective acting differently around her, and she thought that just maybe there was something there, she felt bad about sort of using David to maybe get Sherlock to see sense.

His hands were folded on his back, and he was looking anywhere else than at her, she couldn’t help the smirk spreading across her face, neither could she help the giggle that escaped her mouth. Sherlocks eyes snapped to hers, and he let out a puff of air, ‘how long have you known then?’ He challenged. Molly smiled as she leaned towards him, she could see the uncertainty in Sherlocks eyes.

Her mouth went to his ear, ‘for some time now, you’re not very good at hiding your feelings as it turns out’ she whispered, a smile still lingering on her lips. The detective turned his head and leaned all the way into Molly, his lips finally meeting hers, Molly wrapped her arms around his neck, and he encircled her waist, holding her close to him.

Molly sighed as their lips parted, she bit her lip as she raised her gaze to meet Sherlocks, his eyes were closed, so she just watched the features of his face, his furrowed brows, and his soft cupid bow lips. Sherlock was deep in thought, unexpectedly he pulled Molly in for another kiss, sentiment he’d thought, was after all not a bad thing, and he would be sure to always have mistletoe around at Christmas from now on.


	4. Time travelling detective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly is a time-traveller (like in Rubinrot), and managed to keep herself safe from an organization that recollects the blood of her kind in something called a ‘chronograph', that's used to control the ‘time jumps' after HLV, they find her and she needs Sherlock's help to evade them. At the same time, after an attack from Moriarty, were she saved Sherlock, they discover that even if she dies, her body heals itself and she's unable to really die (Sherlolly please)

Molly ran up the stairs, her hair was a mess, she was bleeding from her abdomen, and her clothes were half torn, she collapsed on the stairs, unable to move any further, she tried calling Sherlocks name, but she was too weak, her voice not even a whisper.

Fortunately Mrs. Hudson had heard the noise of Molly falling, she walked out the door to see what the fuss was about, finding Molly barely breathing, ‘SHERLOCK,’ Mrs. Hudson called his name, rushing to the bleeding pathologists side. Sherlock had never heard Mrs. Hudson so scared; he rushed down the stairs to find his pathologist still on the stairs and his landlady next to her.

His eyes widened as he saw the blood seeping from Molly, he rushed to her, falling to his knees, he swiftly picked her up, carrying her up the stairs to his apartment, he walked through it towards his bedroom, placing her on his bed, Mrs. Hudson soaked a towel placing it on Molly’s forehead, while Sherlock tried to stop the blood.

‘Call John Mrs. Hudson, NOW,’ he demanded, he could tell she’d lost a lot of blood already, and he was worried that she might not wake up. As his thoughts took him elsewhere, and as Mrs. Hudson talked to John on the phone, urging him to come as quickly as possible, Molly started to stir.

Sherlock was in his mind palace, so he didn’t react as Molly started to move, only when his name softly fell from her lips, did his eyes snap open. ‘Molly, Molly tell me what happened,’ he spoke rapidly, almost out the door, now that she was awake, to find whoever had done this to his pathologist.

Molly cleared her voice reaching for Sherlocks hand, ‘you won’t be able to find him Sherlock, he got what he wanted, for now,’ her voice was hoarse and broken, but steady and determined too. Sherlock looked confusedly at her, not completely sure as to what she was talking about.

She held his gaze for a while, but soon her eyes shifted downwards, like she was embarrassed, or hiding something. Sherlock had always been able to read her like a book, but after his return, she’d changed, he sometimes had trouble reading her feelings now, it was not something he liked, but at the same time he admired the timid woman she had turned into.

She took in a deep breath, eyes closed, before she once again turned against him, trying to raise herself into a sitting position. ‘There’s something about me you don’t know Sherlock, but I need to get my strength back before I can show you,’ the words flew out of her mouth, almost as if she didn’t get them out quickly enough, they’d have been stuck in her throat.

Not five minutes later John ran through the door, a crazy look plastered on his face, Mrs. Hudson just pointed towards Sherlocks room, needing no words. John went into Doctor mode as he examined Molly, she had several stab wounds, but they all seemed to be rather shallow, which was a fact Sherlock pondered due to all of the blood.

Molly had often thought about her usually quick recovery time every time she’d hurt herself, even as a kid, of course when she’d learned she had special abilities, she figured they were the reason why. She pulled down her shirt, the wounds would be gone soon, and she didn’t want John mixed into this, it was bad enough she needed Sherlocks help, but she knew he’d want to be a part of it.

‘John, I need to talk to Sherlock alone, please’ she begged, puppy eyes at the ready. John just nodded and walked out the room, closing the door behind him. Sherlock was watching her closely; he’d never seen Molly quite this way before.

She took another deep breath, once again meeting his eyes determinately, ‘i’m a time traveller Sherlock. I can go to Rome and watch the Gladiators fight in the Colosseum, I can go to the future, we have flying cars by the way.’ Sherlock was staring her down; he looked bored, obviously not believing a single word she told him.

Before he could tell her off, before he could ridicule her, she swiftly took his hand. Sherlocks breath was caught in his throat, ten yards away a magnificent dinosaur towered over them, and Sherlock had never seen anything as frightening in his life, Molly watched as his eyes widened, his head turning to her, and his gaze flickering to their connected hands.

In a blink they were back at Baker Street, no time having passed in the short time they’d been away. Sherlock was blinking, trying to take it all in, he was a man of science, and Molly knew it would take him some time. John knocked softly on the door, soon entering with a cup of tea for Molly, he squinted at Sherlocks confused look, but said nothing, only putting down Molly’s tea before leaving the room again.

‘Moriarty attacked me, he found out somehow, and he wants my blood,’ Sherlock looked at her now, intent on just listening to his pathologist. ‘He’s got something called a ‘chronograph' it’s basically a clock, and if you have a time travellers blood, you can mix the two and travel in time yourself.’ She took another deep breath before continuing, ‘I think he’s going back to the day we faked you death.’

Molly got up, ‘i’m going to need your help, we have to find him, I have to get the chronograph, and we need to kill him for real this time, both of them, I can’t do that alone’ she finished. Sherlock was still trying to understand it all, but he nodded, he wanted to get rid of Moriarty, and if this was the way to do it, then he was in.

Sherlock got out of his seat quickly, leaving the room to get rid of both John and Mrs. Hudson, it seemed like he and Molly had some planning to do, he’d already deduced why Molly hadn’t told him while John was in the room, the two were soon alone, discussing what they could do to get out of this game Moriarty was still playing.

Hours had gone by and their plan had finally come together, Molly took Sherlock’s hand once again, with a flash they were gone. They appeared on the rooftop of St. Barts just in time for everything to go down. Sherlock was to go after future Moriarty, and Molly was to make sure past Moriarty really did die, if she got to him, and really killed him, Jim from the future would be gone, all Sherlock had to do was distract him.

Molly went for her target, as soon as she reached him she swiftly pulled her hand up to the side of his neck, wielding a scalpel, she pushed it into the side of his neck, and he fell to the ground. Sherlock was not as lucky, the other Moriarty had been too far away, Molly was only a little to the side of them.

Before he disappeared as her victim finally died for real, a gunshot sounded, Molly watched as the bullet flew through the air, almost in slow motion. She didn’t think before acting, she got up as quickly as she could and pushed herself to the limit, putting her petite body between the bullet and Sherlock. She saw the bullet hit straight to her heart, and she fell.

In a heartbeat he was next to her, his eyes wide of fright, ‘why Molly, tell me why,’ he all but shouted at the tiny pathologist. ‘Because Sherlock, there’s no London without you, believe me, I tried it,’ her words were quiet, and soon her eyes closed. Sherlock felt ice running through his body, she’d told him about the chronograph so he knew he could get back, but he felt numb, his body was frozen in time, and he found himself unable to move on without his Molly.

Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours went by, Sherlock had found himself able to move before the police swarmed the rooftop, he’d removed the mysterious clock, and hidden himself and his Molly, holding her body close to him. It wasn’t often he didn’t know what to do, but he found that now was such a time.

That was until he felt the person in his arms begin to move, ‘Sherlock,’ she whispered as she opened her eyes, ‘did you get hurt’ he could hear the question in her voice as he opened his eyes, he blinked, he knew she was shot in her heart, he’d seen it happen, but here she was looking up at him with her big brown loving eyes, asking him if he was okay after just taking a bullet for him.

He chuckled, he didn’t know what else to do, ‘yes Molly i’m perfectly fine,’ he told her standing up before reaching his hand to her. She smiled at him as she got up from the ground, the bodies of Moriarty were gone, and she could see the shape of the chronograph in Sherlocks coat pocket. Molly was about to speak, but she was cut off by Sherlocks lips meeting hers.

Landscapes passed by them, they were back with the dinosaurs, Leonardo Da Vinci was painting Mona Lisa, Princess Diane was getting married, and still it felt like time stood still, when the kiss ended Molly looked confusedly up at Sherlock, ‘why?’ she asked, ‘because Molly, there’s no London without you, believe me, I tried it,’ he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.


	5. He does love her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it okay to do an angsty one? I had this idea for Irene to come round to 221B and Molly answers the door and it's all awkward because Sherlock's moved on? And then Molly's worried because Irene's a dominatrix, and Sherlock reassures her?

It was a regular Saturday morning, well as regular as any morning living with Sherlock could be at least. The man in question was busy with a case, he had been doing experiments in the kitchen half of the night, and was now out of reach searching through his mind palace.

Molly had been up helping him, and was now half asleep on the couch, praising her luck that it was one of her rare days off. She was listening to the quiet of the apartment, an unusual occurrence, usually her consulting detective was pouting, trying to talk Molly into all kinds of mischief, especially when he was bored, thankfully he never shot at the walls anymore, after a particularly big scolding from the pathologist.

Suddenly a knock sounded, making Molly groan in frustration, she had hoped the bad guys in London would take a day off, just for her, but apparently she wasn’t to be that lucky. She got off of the couch and slumped down the stairs, opening the door as she reached it. She froze, outside was a woman Molly had hoped never to see again, Irene Adler.

The woman smirked at Molly’s frozen and confused stare, ‘Miss Hooper, i’m here to see Sherlock,’ she smiled as she passed by Molly, walking through the door as if she owned the place. Molly snapped into focus, ‘it’s Doctor Hooper actually, but i’m sure you already knew that,’ Molly told the woman coolly, before marching up the stairs, she turned when she reached the top, watching as Irene followed her.

Irene hadn’t stopped smiling, ‘wonderful deduction, has our darling detective rubbed off on you perhaps, he does have a way of doing that, doesn’t he,’ she said playfully, lifting her hand to push away a stray hair of Molly’s, Molly eyed her suspiciously, and slapped her hand away before it even touched her.

Irene went into the apartment, picking up Sherlocks riding crop and running it through her fingers, ‘I always did love toys in bed, I slapped him once, you know’ Irene’s eyes were gleaming as she said it, Molly tried not to think about the two of them in bed, but she knew Sherlock had been infatuated with Irene, so it deemed itself almost impossible.

‘I have nothing to say to you Irene, Sherlock’s in the kitchen’ Molly pointed, but Irene interrupted her, ‘I already know where it is,’ she spoke as she walked towards Sherlock. Molly looked around, knowing that she couldn’t stay, she grabbed her jacket off the hook, and left.

Molly didn’t know for how long she walked around the streets of London, the wind had turned chilly, and the sky grey, perfectly matching her mood, she knew Sherlock loved her, although the times he said it were few, to be honest he hadn’t said the words I love you at all, but he had his own ways to let her know.

She found a small cafe and went inside, a cup of tea might help to calm down her nerves, she picked up her phone and saw several missed calls, all from Sherlock of course, as if she’d magically summoned him, the detective walked through the doors to the tiny little paradise she’d found.

He sat down in the chair opposite to her, silently watching her, ‘I told her to leave as soon as she walked into my line of sight’ he lifted his hand to her face, forcing her to look at him, ‘there was never anything between us Molly, I was intrigued by her, yes, but nothing more,’ he took in a breath as he continued. ‘She became boring after a while to be honest, I figured her out. You on the other hand, you always surprise me.’

She smiled at him she knew that was one of the reasons he had finally realised he loved her, the way she surprised him, the way he could never quite read her the way he could others, and she loved that, sometimes even teased him about it. She didn’t have to say anything to him either, he knew by her smile that everything was okay between them.

Molly finished her tea, and Sherlock had watched her comfortably in silence, Molly left a tip as she got up, and Sherlock followed her movements. As she got up a man came through the door, he looked like any normal man, but the next few minutes happened in a blur. The man pulled a gun, and the next thing Molly remembered was that she was on the floor, a crying Sherlock perched over her.

Her body was trembling, a chill unlike anything she’d ever felt before running through her from head to toes. She was confused to say the least, why was Sherlock crying, she’d never seen him do that, and she decided that she didn’t like it, so she tried to raise her hand as a way to comfort him, but found it hard to do so.

She looked at Sherlock properly now, he was drenched in blood, not his from the sight of it, and Molly drew a breath of relief, ‘I love you Molly’ Sherlock whispered, and those were the last words Molly Hooper heard through the noise of police sirens, and the cries of the other victims, before her eyes drifted shut, and her body went limp in the arms of her crying boyfriend.


	6. Our places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sherlock and Molly show each other their favourite places in London.

Sherlock and Molly had started spending more time together; especially after the arrival of little baby Watson. It was plain for everyone to see – except the two people in question – that Sherlock had grown feelings for his pathologist.

Sherlock had started to bring Molly along on more of his cases, she wasn’t with Tom anymore, and even though she still harboured feelings for him, she had come to terms with the fact that there would never be anything more between them, making it possible for her to endure as much time along with him as she wanted.

Of course Sherlock didn’t want to bring her into harm, so he only brought her along on cases under a seven, having the permission from Mary to take John along if they were over. It seemed that after Moriarty’s second – and hopefully last – death, the cases reaching a seven or over had turned very slim, resulting in Sherlock taking smaller and easier cases, just so he had something to do – or so he told himself. –

Sherlock started inviting her over for experiments – again he told himself it was because Molly always made sure to bring new exciting body parts – but really he enjoyed her friendship, and since John was busy with the baby, he appreciated that she was willing to spend some of her time with him, since he seemed to become rather lonely very fast, as of late.

Molly had just left St. Barts after a very long shift, not wanting anything more than to go to her favourite coffee shop, and then returning home. She hadn’t taken more than six step before she noticed Sherlock walking towards her, she inwardly groaned, she loved helping him, but she was i no mood to do so at this point.

‘Long day at work, tired, in the mood for a coffee and going home,’ he looked closely at her, ‘ah and too tired to help me with a case,’ he deduced. Molly just rolled her eyes, he was right of course, he usually was. ‘You’re right, I would like to help you, of course, but i’m just so bloody tired,’ she answered tiredly, barely stifling a yawn.

‘Very well, lead the way,’ Molly looked suspiciously at the detective, he scoffed, ‘coffee, he put it simply. Molly didn’t say anything as she started walking, Sherlock had obviously chosen to just go with her, he was probably hoping she’d give up and ask about the case – typical –

They reached her favourite little paradise, it was a bookstore with a tiny bakery, and they made the best coffee, sometimes she’d go there on her days off, just reading, disappearing from the world when needed. Sherlock looked sceptically around, but settled into the chair opposite of Molly, she closed her eyes as the coffee swirled down her throat, enjoying the taste on her tongue.

‘Why do you like this place so much’ she heard Sherlock ask, he was probably going to degrade her for only coming here for her coffee, but when she looked to him, there was nothing more than curiosity in his eyes. She shrugged, ‘I just have a couple of places I like to hang out, places there’s no real meaning to,’ she tried explaining.

‘I see, it sounds fair that since you have taken me to one of your places, I should take you to one of mine,’ Sherlock muttered. He got up and offered her his hand, Molly started at him for a second or five, before she accepted his offer.

They walked out into the chilly evening together, neither of them noticing that their hands were still intertwined. He walked swiftly through the streets of London, Molly in tow, and soon they were placed in front of a tall building in the middle of the city.

‘This is where I met Lestrade, he gave me my first case, on my promise of becoming clean, this place changed my life, and I come here sometimes when I crave for drugs, help me remember why I don’t do it anymore,’ he confessed. Molly was gaping, she felt sort of warm and fuzzy, honoured that Sherlock was sharing this tiny piece of his life with her.

Through the next month Molly took Sherlock to the park, she’d brought a blanket and some food, and they’d found a nice secluded spot, just enjoying the sun and gentle breeze of the wind. She’d taken him to the theatre her father used to take her, to the forest near her childhood home, and to the beach she used to hang out at as a child with her parents.

Sherlock had taken Molly to several places he’d solved the most spectacular cases, he’d told her all about them, and she had listened gladly, enjoying the eagerness in his voice – but then again, she had always just enjoyed his voice – the last place he took her was St. Barts, ‘this is possibly my favourite place of all, it’s where I first met you,’ Molly smiled, it was her favourite place too, it’s where she’d met Sherlock.

Sherlock was watching her smile; he enjoyed making her smile, and had decided some time ago that a smile was the only thing he ever wanted to see enveloped on her lips. He bent down to graze his lips over hers, at first there was no response, but when he started to move his lips softly, she joined in the movement, and Sherlock could feel another smile forming, not only on his Molly’s lips, but on his own as well.


	7. Not as it seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sherlock has a migraine, so Molly looks after him

Molly was at work when she got the call, the ringtone on her phone bouncing of the walls in the morgue; she rummaged quickly through her bag, pulling out her phone from the very deeps of it. ‘Hello,’ she answered, waiting for whoever had called to talk back.

‘Molly i’m so sorry to do this, but Sherlock has a migraine, and i’ve seriously got enough work with one baby at the moment, so I was hoping that making you could look in on him after work,’ she could hear the regret dripping from his words.

She shook her head, John really was a good guy, and she knew how much he hated to ask her. But then again, other than John, she was the only one who could stand the detective for more than ten minutes without going crazy. ‘Sure John, don’t feel bad, i’ll look after him,’ she told him calmly.

She could hear the breath of relief over the phone, and could only imagine the look he had on his face. They exchanged a few more words before they hung up, and Molly went back to work, thinking about what she should get from the store on her way to Baker Street later.

The rest of the day went by rather quickly, Molly only had some forms to fill out, and she did so while listening to her iPod, enjoying the silence that seemed to roam through the hospital, the silence soon to be switched with a possibly pouting consulting detective.

Molly went to the locker room to clean up, taking a much needed shower to wash the day at the desk out of her muscles. She dried off, put on her clothes, and left the hospital, ready for an evening with an annoyed and sick consulting detective as one could possibly be.

She remembered bringing a brain, a few eyeballs and three toes, sure it would brighten his mood, even if he did have a migraine, he always did love his experiments, she rolled her eyes, and giggled, boys and their toys.

She went to the store on her way, buying something to drink; cola usually helped her when she had a headache, and if Sherlock didn’t want any, more for her. She went by the apothecary to get some Tylenol, and she took a detour stopping by Angelo’s to get dinner, she’d been there once with Sherlock, a long time ago, but Angelo still remembered her.

Now she found herself outside of 221B Baker Street, she took in a deep breath brazing herself for whatever horrible deductions she would most likely be the target of as soon as she walked inside. She knocked on the door firmly, waiting for someone to open the door, when nothing happened though, she just walked right in, the door was usually open anyways.

She reached the door of Sherlock’s flat, opening it quietly, she looked around the living room, finding the detective on his couch fast asleep, she smiled softly; he looked so peaceful in his sleep, free of any care in the world. She went to the kitchen; she wanted to pack away the food for later, also putting the cola in the refrigerator. 

Sherlock stirred in his sleep, his lids were jumping, and Molly didn’t have to guess to know that he was having a nightmare. She went to his side, sitting down next to the couch on the floor, she ran her hand through his hair, down his cheek, and further down his neck.

His hand suddenly flew to her wrist, she stopped her motions, he was mumbling, but looked surprisingly better, Molly got up from the floor, trying to move away, but Sherlock’s grip tightened, he pulled and she landed next to him, he muttered a word she could understand, ‘safe’ as he placed one arm over her waist.

She couldn’t stop the blush creeping down her cheeks and throat, sure she was much more comfortable around him, she didn’t stutter when he spoke to her, and she even stood up to him, feeling much more secure about herself, but as his body was pressed up against hers, the shy pathologist was without a doubt back.

Molly couldn’t move, he was holding her so close, so she did what she could, she fell asleep, tangled in the arms of the man she still and always would love, his even breathing lulling her to peace, and to a dreamless, silent, peaceful sleep.

When she woke up Sherlock was watching her, she blushed yet again, she wanted to explain what had happened, that she hadn’t just gone to lie down with him, but before she could speak he brushed his lips softly against hers.

He snuggled into her neck, closing his eyes, uttering the word from last night ‘safe’ and went back to sleep. Molly was for lack of a better word, speechless. Sherlock Holmes had just kissed her, his lips unbelievably soft, just like she’d always thought they would be.

Sherlock spoke of this night on their wedding day, finally confessing that he never actually had a migraine. Molly had figured that out as soon as she’d entered Baker Street, and Sherlock said that as well, adding that this made his choice easy, he was indeed in love with Molly Hooper.


	8. Codename: Marry me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sherlock and Molly are naming their newborn child

Sherlock and Molly were seated in their couch at their home in 221B Baker Street, Sherlock’s head was placed carefully in Molly’s lap, and she was mindlessly running her fingers through his soft dark black curls, loving the feeling of it under her touch.

Both of them were deep in thought, Sherlock was on a case, an eight he had announced with glee in his voice when he’d stalked into their apartment at five in the morning, while Molly was still fast asleep in bed, his face had fallen when he hadn’t been met with the usual smile, only ever present just for him.

That was until he remembered the time, yes his cases were still mainly the most important part of his life, but his pathologist was surprisingly sneaking up on them, of course they had been together for, what, almost two years now, and granted Molly was pregnant with his child, so it didn’t bother Sherlock much that his work didn’t always come first anymore.

He didn’t mind that he had let sentiment into his life, or that he had allowed his heart to feel for his Molly. Plain to see by the ring resting in his pocket, he hadn’t found the courage yet to propose, the ring had been present in his pocket for almost half of their relationship, but he’d never quite found the right time.

However often the detectives thoughts fluttered to the ring, they were now currently working on his case, a serial killer, so time was of the essence, but thankfully Molly’s hands running through his hair always seemed to have an effect on his thought process, it seemed that his mind sorted through everything much more efficiently, leaving the unusable knowledge behind smoothly.

Molly had her eyes closed as well, one hand still entangled in Sherlock’s unruly curls, the other rubbing her stomach, running circles over the protruding baby bump, she was only about two weeks from the due date, and she was browsing through names, meaning to discuss the matter with Sherlock as soon as the case was over.

Molly had a weird fondness of girl names that could be shortened to boy names, Josephine, Alexandra, Samantha and such, which also suited the fact that they had chosen not to learn the gender of their baby, Molly gave a small laugh, thinking Sherlock had probably already deduced it from the things she craved, and the way her body was shaped, and she couldn’t help the giggles escaping her mouth.

Sherlock opened his eyes to watch his now giggling pathologist, watching her with a confused expression, only causing her to fall into a full laughing fir, both hands now holding to her stomach. Sherlock sat up shaking his head, unable to hide a smile as he watched her trying to relax; she really was most beautiful when she smiled, although he preferred her smile, when he’d been the one to put it there.

‘I was thinking maybe Samantha, or Sam has a nice ring to it doesn’t it,’ Molly asked as soon as her breathing had slowed down. Sherlock’s head was back in her lap, and he mulled over the name, he liked it, ‘marry me’ he said, confirming his acceptance of the name.

Silence, Molly’s hand had frozen, and he opened his eyes to look at her expression, confusion, and shock plastered so clearly for him to see. That’s when his words ran over his tongue again, and horror crossed his face, in all his life, that was not the way he had wanted to propose, granted he never thought he’d ever be in the situation, but of course Molly had changed that.

He removed the ring smoothly from the pocket, it was out now, and it was clear from the look on Molly’s face that she was having doubts if he’d meant it, he had to abstain from rolling his eyes, when would she truly believe him when he said she mattered the most.

He sat up properly, refusing to get down on one knee, he didn’t have to, Molly was looking at him now, thoughts, so many thoughts running through her mind, she knew he loved her, of course she did, but even though she was pregnant with his child, she had never once thought it possible that he would want to marry her.

But as Sherlock brought his lips to hers for a chaste kiss, as he placed the ring on her finger, and as he leaned in close to her ear, whispering the words again ‘marry me’ she knew, she knew the love he held for her, and their unborn child, she knew, and she never doubted it for once after.


	9. Surprise surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anderson and Donovan find out about Sherlolly.

Mrs. Hudson had known basically from the beginning, after all the walls at Baker Street were rather thin, they didn’t leave out much sound, and when the building was quiet, the sounds drifted. She’d smiled as she took an extra of her herbal soothers, glad that the consulting detective had finally found a kindred spirit, and glad that it had turned out to be Molly Hooper.

John had been running up the stairs, he’d just heard about a new case from Lestrade, and it sounded promising. Mary had seen the glee on his face, and informed him that he really was turning into Sherlock, at least when it came to cases, he knew she was right, but it had been a while since they’d had something really puzzling.

When he threw open the door Sherlock was on his couch, as he had been so many times before. The surreal part was that Molly Hopper was wrapped in his arms, holding her protectively, snuggling closer to her as John watched, mesmerised, and slightly horrified.

He snapped out of it, obviously he had to wake them, or at least Sherlock. But for good measures he slipped out his mobile and took a picture, Mary would never believe him without the proof, Sherlock was even being polite, smiling for the camera.

Lestrade found out in the morgue, Molly was examining a body for one of his cases; he’d called in Sherlock to meet him there. Molly was telling Greg about cause of death when Sherlock walked in, demanding with his entrance that all focus should be on him now, Greg rolled his eyes.

Sherlock examined the body as Molly had, confirming her suspicions before flipping his Belstaff around, going swiftly out the morgue, with an underlying follow me Greg, I know who did it walk. He gave Molly a sympathetic look, making the pathologist giggle the slightest.

Lestrade had just reached the doors when Sherlock came back inside, he walked straight to Molly’s side, planted his lips on hers, told her he’d see her later, and walked back out again, with a ‘coming Geoff. Lestrade’s mouth was open; Molly gave a shrug and went back to work, leaving the DI to mull over what he’d just seen.

Sherlock had brought Molly along on a case, John had been busy with – baby stuff – and had not been able to find the time, leaving the detective in a bad mood, although he did appreciate Molly’s posterior as she searched the body, he was staring intently at her when she returned to a standing position, making the woman in question giggle.

Anderson and Donovan was watching the weird scene in front of them, Molly was no longer shy around Sherlock, she actually scolded him whenever he was being an arse, and the detective seemed to listen to her, making it much more comfortable and pleasant to be in his company.

When Molly smiled after taking another look at the body, informing them all that she had solved the case, the look on Sherlock’s face turned hungry, his lips quirked up, and he informed Molly that she really should just move in with him so she didn’t have to go to her apartment to get clean clothes.

Molly was staring at him, Anderson was staring at him, and Donovan was staring at him, well, everyone was staring at him. Molly finally moved throwing her arms around Sherlock’s waist, a bunch of confirmations running past her lips, she was beaming as Sherlock kissed her, swinging his arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the shocked people around them.


	10. The first meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Teenlock. Sherlock and Molly meet for the first time in detention

Molly was never one to speak up in class, only when asked a question, or when her hand was voluntarily raised, but when Anderson had uttered the rudest comment to one of the other girls; she hadn’t been able to stop herself. ‘Seriously is your ass jealous of the shit that comes out of your mouth?’ She slapped her hands to her mouth as soon as the words had left her mouth.

Everyone was looking at her, and she wished she could just disappear into a hole. When the teacher told her off and gave her a detention, Molly got annoyed, after all she had only snapped because someone else was being treated unfairly, but Mrs. Donovan had apparently chosen to ignore that fact, and as Molly walked towards the classroom where detention was held, she saw Anderson smirking at her.

She was muttering angrily to herself as she walked through the door, there was only one other person in the room, she’d never talked to him, but she’d heard other discussing him, apparently he was rude, arrogant, and uncaring, she sat down as far from him as possible, staring at the hands in her lap with a disgruntled look on her face.

There was a chuckle; Molly ignored it, as Mrs. Donovan walked through the door, Molly sighed, it was just her luck that the teacher, who sent her here, was the one keeping an eye on them today. ‘You may take out any homework you have, i’ve been called to a meeting, but i’ll be locking the door,’ she announced sternly, before leaving the room almost as quickly as she had entered it.

Molly watched as the other occupant of the room swung his long lanky legs over the table, and positioned his arms behind his head in a comfortable position. Molly was curious as to why he was here, but after what she’d heard about him, she thought he just might be in detention very often.

She placed her head on the table, using her arms as a pillow, and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long before she felt a pair of eyes staring at her intently. She furrowed her brow and pressed her lids tight, she was feeling uncomfortable, knowing someone was gazing at her.

Finally she had enough and snapped her eyes open, glaring intently on the irritating boy, ‘stop looking at me, ‘she barked, she shifted her gaze from him and started staring out the window, there was another chuckle, she ignored it, arms crossing in frustration.

She heard the scraping of a chair and then footsteps trailing towards her, she chose to turn her attention to her schoolbag, she picked out her copy of Harry Potter, and slowly turned the page to the chapter she had reached.

A scoff, ‘that’s a silly book, nothing even remotely interesting about it,’ he gave his unwanted opinion. ‘If you criticise someone for liking something you don’t, it doesn’t make them stop liking it. They’ll stop liking you. Fortunately, I never liked you to start with, but you can keep you condescending attitude to yourself anyways,’ she answered promptly, not bothering to look at him.

Silence, he wasn’t moving away from her as she’d hoped, but at least he wasn’t sharing his opinions anymore either, which Molly was very much thankful for. He was watching her again though, and she let out an exasperated puff of air.

‘You seem intelligent enough, but you dress in childish clothes, read stupid fictional books, and you seem to have absolutely no spine, the only reason you’re here is because you snapped. Your brain might be close to the proximity of mine, but I could never call such a mouse my equal,’ his words were poison.

Molly got out of her chair, she felt rage running through her body, encircling her entire being, who the hell was he to ever be so condescending towards her, he didn’t know her, he had no idea who she was, or what she had to go through on a daily basis, she snapped again as he had called it, and her palm collided with his face.

His eyes went wide, obviously surprised to see her fighting back, she raised her hand again, ready to strike, but he grabbed it, and they ended in a staring match. Her breath was ragged with anger, and she gave him her most evil glare, she couldn’t ignore it though, the warmth that spread throughout her body, starting at his touch on her wrist.

She didn’t know how they got there, but suddenly she was pressed to the wall, caught between it and Sherlock’s firm body, his hot lips on hers, his hand no longer on her wrist, but both of them placed on her hips as he held her with an almost bruising force.

The kiss ended when the apparent need for air made itself known, they were both out of breath, but not from anger anymore, they were once again lost in each others eyes. When they were interrupted by the door opening, Sherlock removed himself from her side, and they both went to the tables they had previously occupied.

When the hour was up Molly stood and gathered her things, she wished to leave as fast as possible, the kiss had been a mistake obviously, or he wouldn’t have stepped away so abruptly. She had only just gotten through the door when she felt fingers intertwining with hers, she looked to her side, Sherlock didn’t meet her eyes, but simply led her through the doors, and out of the school.

‘I should probably say that I am an impossible man, I do not much care for sentiment, but I find you to be a suitable partner, so if you can live with the fact that I might very well hurt you with unsentimental deductions, and the fact that I might not talk or respond to you for days, then I would very much like to enter into a relationship with you Molly Hooper,’ he was clinical and frank in his question.

Molly couldn’t help but giggle, so stoic and important, she thought of all the fun she could have trying to make him uncomfortable with domestic girlfriend/boyfriend behaviour, and found that she simply couldn’t deny him, so she stopped him and raised herself on her toes to give him a quick peck on the lips, before leaving a quite horrified Sherlock, to go home, possibly telling her mother about a very strange boy.


	11. Learning something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, how are you? Prompt: Molly has a secret tattoo ... the rest is up to you =)

Molly was spending a well earned day off, just hanging around in her apartment, it was cold outside, and so she had opted on starting a fire in the fireplace, lounging on her couch watching Friends. She was only wearing purple lace panties, and a matching tank top, finding herself comfortably warm under the woollen blanket placed over her petite body.

She’d had a night shift the day before, so she wasn’t surprised as her eyelids started dropping closed, and her body relaxed as she slowly but surely fell asleep. She didn’t hear the door open and close, nor did she feel when there was a slight move of the couch as someone sat down next to her.

Molly woke a couple of hours later, stretching her arms and legs, her tank top rode up a bit, and she shivered as the cold air hit her bare back. She furrowed her brows when her legs hit something, and she turned her head.

Sherlock was sitting with his head in his hand, eyes closed, and Molly wondered if he was in his mind palace, or if he was sleeping. She smiled a little to herself, speculating as to why he was here, they hadn’t exactly talked much since the slap, she’d been furious at him, and even more so after she’d learned from Mary that he had been exiled.

The altercations they’d had, had not ended well, but it felt nice having him here none the less, he obviously had something he needed to say since he was here. Molly got up, her stomach grumbling for some food, she took a peak at Sherlock before walking into her kitchen, he was still far away.

She rummaged around the fridge, looking for something exciting to eat, she chose to pull out the leftover chicken casserole from two days ago, and popped it in the microwave. She had almost returned the box to the fridge, but thought better of it, and made a plate for Sherlock too, just in case.

Just like magic the detective appeared in the door, most likely summoned there by the delicious smell of curry wafting through the flat. He didn’t say anything to her for a while, just watched her intently. She placed the plates on the small kitchen table, and added glasses and a bottle of tap water, sitting down and gesturing for Sherlock to do the same.

They ate in silence; Sherlock even got up and took a second serving, ‘I never noticed you had a tattoo,’ he suddenly exclaimed. Molly blushed, her tattoo was placed just under her breast, so her tank top must have ridden up rather high as she slept.

‘Oh that, yeah it’s nothing really,’ she muttered, gazing down to her food taking another bite. Sherlock studied her. ‘A sparrow, they’ve got a very broad type of sentiment, but if i’m correct, which I am, for you it’s about your dad, and undying love,’ he shot out.

Molly sighed, he wasn’t completely right, but she just nodded and ate some more food, it really did make her feel better, she did love chicken. Molly was just waiting for Sherlock to tell her how stupid she was, sentimental and all that, but nothing came.

He was just looking at her again, and she felt the blush creep down her cheeks again, she wasn’t so intimidated around him anymore, but when he was gazing at her as intently as he was, it was hard not to shrink into her shy self again.

When Molly had finished her food she got up and went to the sink, getting ready to do the dishes, she turned on the faucet and started rinsing the plates and glasses, she felt a hand o her waist, and the next second she was turned around to face Sherlock.

He was gazing at her again, but softly this time,’ it wasn’t for you dad was it,’ he inquired, and she shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. There was a small smile on his lips and slowly but surely he tilted his head and moved his lips towards hers.

No words were needed when they parted, needing to gain their breath, they just stood quietly and smiled at each other. Sherlock stayed the night, and the next day they finally had a real talk, both admitting their feelings for the other.

A week later – because they didn’t need more time – Molly moved into 221B Baker Street, bringing Toby and most of her belongings with her, John’s chair, became Molly’s chair, and not soon after Molly found the small tattoo of a sparrow behind her boyfriend’s ear, hidden for only her to see.


	12. It's easy to love her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about one were Sherlock first tells Molly he loves her. It’d be really cute, idk.

It had been a few months since Molly had moved in with Sherlock at 221B Baker Street, he’d been gone for two weeks on a case, and she missed him dearly. They’d been together for almost two years, but Molly had wanted to take it slow, sure she wasn’t shy around him anymore, but she was still scared he’d run as soon as it got too serious between them.

Her self esteem had never been that great, and still she felt like she didn’t deserve Sherlock, at least when he’d been away for a while, she knew she was being stupid, but the green monster was still present. Even more so when he was usually the eye of interest, she noticed the looks he got from much more seductive women, and the looks they gave her.

Of course she knew Sherlock cared for her; he wouldn’t have asked her out in the first place if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked her to move in with him if he didn’t. But after almost two years together, after having known each other for almost nine years, and after everything they’d been through, he had still to utter the words I love you and even though she hated feeling the way she did, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t.

She was in bed; she’d had a spectacularly horrible day, the new boss at St. Barts. was a great big arsehole, he strongly believed that women did not belong in a hospital, and he really did believe he knew better, Molly had noticed a mistake he’d made, of course being the sweet, mild mannered person she was, she had simply gone to talk with him instead of turning him in.

It turned out that he had signed her name instead of just correcting the mistake he’d made, no doubt hoping she would be fired. It had taken her a long time to persuade the higher rulers of the hospital that the signature was in fact not hers, but eventually they had to agree with her protests, when they’d asked who had signed her name they were appalled, but of course not enough to think about sacking him, he was invaluable they said.

When her phone started ringing the next morning, Molly tried turning to her other side, wanting to ignore the alarm, she really didn’t want to spend her day being degraded by David, she really felt she’d snap if he were to test her today. When she moved she felt arms tightening around her, and lips meeting the back of her neck, she felt his smile on her skin, and she felt her body relaxing slightly.

She shuffled a bit backwards, sliding closer to Sherlock’s warm embrace, ‘morning’ he mumbled sleepily, his breath ghosting over her cheek as she turned her head a tad. She groaned she really did have to get up and get ready; she had a day shift, and would be home for dinner, able to spend some much needed time with her consulting detective, she always did feel better when he was being affectionate with her.

She had been at work for five hours when Sherlock marched through the doors, he didn’t have a new case, he always sent a message to inform her when he did. So he was just there for his experiments, she didn’t mind him experimenting in their home, but she’d made John’s old room a kind of office for him, and he spend a lot of time there when he was bored, Molly had bought some new machines, beakers, and had even added a refrigerator where he could keep all the body parts she brought home.

But some experiments he kept at Bart’s, they did have more access to machines, bodies, and cases, also St. Bart’s had Molly. She never thought of herself as one of his reasons for coming there though. Not twenty minutes after he’d arrived David walked in, gave her an unappreciative look, scoffed at her, and told her she should have been fired the day before, adding that she obviously thought she was so high and mighty, but that she wasn’t.

Sherlock had gotten up from his seat, poison seeping from his blue eyes, as he watched David humiliate his pathologist. ‘Seriously why don’t you shock me and say something intelligent for once,’ Molly spat at David before Sherlock had a chance to spew his deductions at David, his eyes went wide, he’d never heard Molly so feisty, her eyes were slits, and if ever Sherlock though looks could kill, this would be the moment.

David was frozen in disbelief, obviously not expecting the shy pathologist to insult him so furiously, before Molly could punch him, Sherlock stepped in, letting off a tirade - recently divorced, had an affair with the wife’s sister, drinking problem, gambling problem, the camera in the corner of the morgue (placed there by Sherlock) would prove perfect for getting David fired. -

After that Sherlock turned to Molly who had grown silent, he could tell she was regretting her outburst, he smiled, his perfect pathologist, how he had ever been so lucky as to have found someone to love him so deeply. He embraced her, pulling her close to him. John and Lestrade walked in to the morgue, just as Sherlock pronounced that he loved Molly so well and truly.

When he went to his knees, John and Lestrade started gaping, Molly’s eyes widened. He didn’t have a ring yet, this was not what he had planned, but he knew this was what he wanted, and as a smile spread over Molly’s face, he beamed right back at her; she pulled him up from his position on the floor, and basically started snogging him breathless.

Neither of them noticed the doors to the morgue open and close silently as David, John and Lestrade left, two of them shaking their heads, while smiling, ‘about bloody time’ John muttered under his breath, causing the DI to let out a breathy laugh, the doctor was right though, why it had taken Sherlock this long, he’d never know.


	13. Wiggins, Katie and the bedtime story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly's daughter + Wiggins as a babysitter + bed time story (Wiggins's tells the little girl on how her parents ended up together) :)

‘See at first your daddy didn’t actually realise how much he loved your mummy’ Wiggins explained to an eagerly listening Katie Holmes, he’d promised her the last time he was babysitting, to tell her the story of how her parent’s ended up together, and she had been waiting with anticipation.

Her parents had gone on a weekend away, and the Watsons were busy making the house ready for the tiny baby boy in Mary’s belly, and taking care of their first child Sunny Watson. Mycroft often took care of her when her parents were busy, but he had also been unavailable.

Both Sherlock and Molly trusted Bill; he was clean now, after help from Molly. She’d gotten him a job at the hospital, and he now had his own flat, he owed the Holmes’s a lot, and he truly cared for their clever little Holmes girl.

‘You know how people can be kind of dense, especially your daddy,’ Wiggins continued making Katie giggle uncontrollably. Sherlock really had been an idiot, why he’d taken so long to realise his feelings for Molly had puzzled everyone he knew. But eventually he had gotten his head out of his ass, and had admitted defeat.

‘Well when your mummy was in danger from a very very mean man, your daddy finally came to his senses, I suspect because he realised he might not get to see her again’ at this Katie gasped, she knew her dad lived a dangerous life, although he didn’t take cases too risky anymore, not after his marriage to Molly, and even less after the arrival of Katie.

He still took cases of course, it was his world, but most days he was happy to stay home doing experiments with his daughter. She was exceptionally bright for her age, but it didn’t surprise anyone when they learned who her parents were, and even though Sherlock and Molly just wanted her to be happy, great things were still expected of her.

‘He tried saving her, but your mother is surprisingly feisty, and it turned out that she didn’t need a saving, which was the last straw.’ Bill told Katie, she was smiling, she knew her mother was the coolest woman on earth, even if Auntie Mary was an ex assassin, her mother was still the bravest person Katie knew.

‘Well anyways, your daddy ran to her side and pulled her into a kiss, and he hasn’t left her side since’ Wiggins finished the story. ‘And he never will’ a voice added from the door. Katie turned her head smile plastered on her face, Sherlock held his arm around his wife protectively, smiling at their daughter.

Bill got up from his seat next to Katie’s bed, as he walked out the door he put an arm on Sherlock’s shoulder, ‘you’d better not, your missus is the best thing that ever happened to you’ he told the detective and walked out of 221B Baker Street.

Sherlock and Molly went to bed that night, with a sleeping girl next to them, she’d been asking them questions about the wedding, demanding to watching pictures from when they’d first started dating, and had fallen asleep as Sherlock told her about their honeymoon, he’d caught himself almost calling it a sex holiday, since that’s what it had mostly been.

The next time Bill looked after Katie he was asked to tell the story of her parents again, and he did so almost every time he was there. She never got tired of it, sometimes he even added more information, but it wasn’t until she was old enough that she got the full grizzly story.

She loved her parents just that tiny bit more, her mummy had always been her favourite person, and she looked up to her immensely. And her daddy, despite what she’d heard from people so many times, was the most caring and loving man, especially with mummy, stealing kisses from her whenever he had the chance.


	14. We should sleep together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teen!lock, First Time ;)

When Sherlock and Molly had been dating for a few months, Sherlock had announced that he thought it was only logical to take the next step; it would be the first time for both of them, and Molly had gulped even though she knew how much she wanted to. Every time she and Sherlock kissed, a tingle went through her whole body, so she knew she was ready.

But actually finding the courage to do it, was another matter completely, it took them some time before just agreeing on a date. They were apparently both too nervous to just let it happen, it just so happened that they both liked to plan before doing something, so in their own weird way it calmed them down.

Molly was to be home alone for the weekend, her father had a business meeting in Manchester, and he wouldn’t be home until late Sunday evening. They had discussed if Sherlock should come over for dinner on Friday, but Molly had argued that they’d just grow nervous if they had to sit opposite each other while eating, Sherlock had eventually agreed.

It was half past eight in the evening when he turned up, he was wearing his usual Belstaff coat, and the blue scarf Molly had given him for his birthday a couple of years ago. Molly had been unable to eat anything solid, so she’d made a smoothie for herself, Sherlock hadn’t eaten anything, but that was barely a surprise, he so rarely did.

They went to Molly’s room on the first floor; the moonlight was shining through her window, flickering over the surface of her furniture. They took a moment to just stare at each other, before Sherlock took a step towards her, crushing his lips to hers, the kiss was different, clumsier than even their first kiss, perhaps maybe because they knew this was going to lead to something entirely new to both of them.

‘Do you want me to, um’ Sherlock was looking at something right behind her, too shy to meet her eyes. ‘Maybe, maybe we should do that ourselves?’ She’d know what he’d meant, they started taking off their clothes, Sherlock folded his and placed them on her chair, Molly threw hers into her closet, not bothering with folding them.

Sherlock turned as Molly’s last piece of clothes – besides her bra and panties - dropped around her feet, and his breath got stuck in his throat. She was wearing a mint lace bra and matching panties, the moonlight on her skin made her almost ethereal to him, and he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

He walked slowly towards her, as he got closer he reached out his hand, motioning for her to take it. She was looking at him from under her lashes, a shy smile lingering on her mouth. They closed the distance as their lips met, this time their kiss wasn’t clumsy, but burning with passion, Sherlock pulled Molly close to his body, the fabric of her bra rubbing on his chest.

Molly felt the blush starting on her cheeks, running down her neck, and ending just above her breasts, she felt bold when Sherlock pulled her into his arms, and she started roaming her hands over his body, tickling his skin, making him shiver. A short gasp of air left her as he started returning her touch, his fingers burning on her already sensitive skin.

He lifted her gently and carried her to the bed, she watched him as he crawled over her, goosebumps starting to erupt as his hand touched her breast over her bra, he returned his lips to hers, their kisses turning needy and hurried as their last pieces of clothes finally left their bodies, their skin touching made them both groan in pleasure.

His hand worked its way down her body and he looked her in the eyes, the silent question hanging in the air between them, she nodded, and his finger touched her where she most needed it. The feeling of his finger on her clit was enough to make her writhe with true bliss, she knew she was wet from the sounds Sherlock was making, and when he moved his hand, she knew she wanted more.

Sherlock had done research up to this day, he hadn’t let Molly know how nervous he had truly been, but now as she was moaning beneath him, he ran on purely instinct, they were working together in the way they had always been able to, and the fact that he now knew they were compatible in every way possible, made him harder than he’d ever been before.

He hovered over her, and she bravely took hold of his shaft, once again, his breath got caught in his throat, and all sound erupting from him, were small puffs of air. She led his cock to her entrance and started running it over her wet heat, they started kissing frantically, and he started pushing into her slowly.

He was stretching her so wonderfully, she shuddered as he took away the only proof of her virginity, it didn’t hurt as much as she’d feared, but she already knew it was different from person to person, she was just happy she was apparently lucky. The friction as he entered her was not enough, Molly wanted more, and started moving against Sherlock.

They found a pace acceptable for both of them, working and moving together, gasps, pants, and the sound of their movement the only noises wandering through the house, the silence outside eerily calming. Molly’s fingers entangled themselves in Sherlock black unruly hair, pulling softly. Sherlock had his hands on her hips, holding her in place as he started to move with a frantic need.

Sherlock felt the tell tale signs, knowing Molly had taken precautions, having visited her doctor, he wasn’t worried, neither had been with someone else, so as Molly screamed out her orgasm, he pounded into her until he reached his own peak, falling down on her smoothly, their breaths uneven and ragged. Molly wrapped her arms under his shoulders and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Sherlock pulled away after a while, and stood up leaving for the bathroom.

Apparently he wasn’t shy anymore, he didn’t even bother putting on any of his clothes, and Molly giggled as he strutted through her room towards the door. She was more modest, so she enveloped herself in a sheet, and went to join Sherlock in the bathroom. When they had both cleaned up, and brushed their teeth, they went back to Molly’s bed, and went into a deep peaceful sleep, tangled in each others limps.


	15. The drooling detective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt for you, dear one! Sherlock is left to babysit his new baby, after Molly is called away for an emergency autopsy at the hospital. It's his first time alone with their little girl, and he isn't sure how to console the blubbering and teary eyed little bundle, until he discovers a doll in her crib. A doll that looks remarkably like him. (Cue Daddy!lock and/or Puppet!lock lol)

Sherlock was smiling down at his daughter; she was blowing tiny little bubbles from her mouth, and shaking her tiny little arms and feet. She was – right after her mother – the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, finally admitting his feelings for Molly all those years ago had changed Sherlock – not by much – but he now found that some things and people were indeed beautiful.

He was lost in thought when he heard a scream of distress from Meg; he gently lifted her into his embrace, making sure to support her head with his hand. It was the first time he was all alone with her, Molly had been called in for an autopsy, and Mike had informed her that she was needed as none of the other pathologists at St. Barts had been able to find the cause of death.

Sherlock had smirked, what would they do without his Molly, Sherlock turned his attention back to his daughter, she was crying now, and for some reason he panicked. His mind had gone blank, and he couldn’t seem to remember what he usually did when Meg was crying.

He started by swinging her from side to side, then he tried talking to her in his low baritone, he tried walking while humming one of the songs he usually played on his violin. Remembering his trusted instrument he placed Meg on her blanket and started playing, but she had worked herself up, and wasn’t relaxing as Sherlock had hoped she would.

He picked her back up and started walking around, he contemplated calling Mary, and he even had to shake the idea of calling Mycroft out of his head. Because Sherlock was too proud, even though it had turned out that Meg absolutely loved and adored her uncle, and even more surprising Mycroft loved and adored Meg.

Sherlock walked to Meg’s room, standing by her crib, maybe one of her teddies would calm her down. He rummaged through all her blankets and pulled out the first one he could find. He hadn’t seen it before, but it looked eerily like him, obviously a joke from his brother, Sherlock scoffed and rolled his eyes, although a smile still played on his lips.

He handed the little doll over to his daughter, and to his surprise she immediately started gurgling out tiny happy sounds, wobbling the doll around in her chubby hands. He went back to the living room and lied down on the couch, placing Meg on his stomach, and before long a soft snoring could be heard through the flat.

When Molly returned home later that day she was met by the sight of her consulting detective and daughter asleep on the couch, she giggled as she wiped away a bit of drool from Sherlock’s mouth, she gently kissed both of them before snapping a picture, Mrs. Holmes would love it for her photo album, and Molly would have some leverage against Sherlock if needed.

She sat down next to the couch and turned on the telly, making sure the volume was low, as to not wake either of her babies. She watched an episode of Mythbusters, a show she had always loved, and had great memories of watching it with her father, when the episode ended she heard stirring from behind, Meg started yawning.

Molly took her slowly from the arms of her dad, carrying her to her crib and placing her there with a blanket over. Molly kissed her goodnight, and went to back to Sherlock to get him to join her in bed. She kissed him on the lips, and he smiled as he stretched his arms to wrap them around her legs.

‘Meg?’ He asked tiredly, ‘in her crib sleeping, come to bed,’ Molly answered as she took his hands pulling him up. He took hold of her face and placed a kiss on her forehead, then one on each of her cheeks, and finally one on her lips, Molly smiled at him as he pulled away, running her fingers through his hair.

Sherlock picked Molly up and carried her to their bedroom, closing the door soundly behind them; Molly was giggling silently the whole way there. Somehow even after three years together, he still made her feel giddy, the honeymoon faze hadn’t ended for them yet, and she hoped it never did, as he pulled her into his embrace once again placing his lips on hers, deepening the kiss.

All Molly knew was that she was happy she had tomorrow off, she didn’t expect she was going to get much sleep.


	16. Leaving it all behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly was once in a bad relationship with a sweet but dangerous man. He was a buyer of her father's drugs. When she turned seventeen, she left and never looked back. Sixteen years later, when she thought her past will no longer haunt her. Her ex tracked her down. Deciding it was better to leave, she resigned, moved out, and went busy with her plane ticket. Sherlock eventually found out and began to worry. Tracking her down, he succeeded and made her ex wish he never met Molly. Glowing The Script

16 years ago.

Molly was packing her bag, she’d had enough of her current boyfriend, and last night he had gone too far, hitting her when she’d asked him to please stop doing drugs. He’d yelled at her to mind her own business, and the punch had fallen, she knew he’d regretted it as soon as it happened but she couldn’t stay.

She’d had a job offer from a teaching hospital in London, and she’d taken it, permanently leaving her life behind. When she’d finished the packing, she took one final look around the flat, it had been her home for almost two years, and she’d had a good life here, before David’s drug use.

xoxoxoxoxoxox

The sixteen years had gone by quickly, after all on her second day, she’d met Sherlock Holmes, and with Sherlock, time never stood still. Many things had happened, the whole Moriarty thing, her failed engagement, Sherlocks return to drugs, his four minute exile, ands the return of Moriarty.

Moriarty was taken care of, and Molly was back at Barts after having been basically kidnapped by Sherlocks brother into a safe building, where she’d been commanded to stay until the danger was over. Of course she hadn’t listened, she knew her help would be needed, and honestly, if it hadn’t been for her, Moriarty would most likely have won.

Sherlock had scolded her for her stupidity, but she had walked away, still mad at him for doing drugs, and for neglecting to tell her about his exile. She’d tried her best to ignore him ever since, hating that she’d still blush when he’d look at her the way he usually did.

That’s why the choice to leave again wasn’t as hard as she’d thought, in some way it felt refreshing to get away from Sherlock, when he’d been gone to dismantle Moriarty’s network it had been easier to move on, of course she had been worried, but not having him close made it possible to actually act like a normal human being.

David had found her though, she knew why he hadn’t come after her when she first left, he’d been too stoned to think straight. But now he had cleaned himself up, or so he said, but Molly knew the signs of drugs, and she didn’t even have to take a close look at him to see. Even if he had been clean, he certainly wasn’t anymore.

He’d slammed his hand on the table when she’d refused him; she had no interest in getting back together with him. She had jumped at the sound, and glared at him until he brushed past her, leaving her flat. She knew he’d be back though, which is why the decision had been effortless.

She was washing off her instruments at her new job; it was one of the best ranking hospitals in the world, Hôpitaux de Rouen, it was about an hour and a half away from Paris, and she’d gotten rather comfortable in her new life.  
The doors crashed open, and Molly took in a deep breath, she only knew of one person who was able to open the doors in that manner. She’d hoped he wouldn’t come looking for her, that he wouldn’t bother, but it was Sherlock, and he loved mysteries.  
‘So you didn’t think to say goodbye,’ he sounded offended, but Molly was angry now, turning around quickly to stare at him through slits. ‘I’m just doing what you would have done, she spit out, and she knew she was maybe being unfair, especially as she saw the hurt flash over his face.  
For what seemed like forever they just stared at each other, Sherlock seemed to be thinking, so Molly turned back around to continue her work, leaving the detective to himself. When she was done and looked behind her Sherlock was gone, she shook her head, she wasn’t going to bother with him right now, and everything she could think of was a nice glass of red when she got home.  
xoxoxoxoxox  
When Sherlock had realised Molly had quit her job at Barts and ultimately left the country without telling him he’d gotten mad, and then he’d pouted for what seemed about a day, although he’d been informed it had been more like two weeks by John.  
He’d tracked her down to a hospital in Rouen – France, as far as he knew it was a perfectly good hospital, but they didn’t have him there, and Barts did, so why she’d chosen to leave baffled him, it was a mystery, and he’d solve it.

He learned from Mike that she’d gone to France, but why he hadn’t been able to say. Sherlock had opted to just go to France and ask her. He’d known pretty much as soon as he’d seen her, he knew about her ex, as soon as she’d started working at Barts he’d checked her out, and now it seemed he had returned into her life.

It didn’t take long to track down David; he was no criminal mastermind after all. Sherlock had him pushed up against a wall, hand on his throat. ‘Leave London, actually, leave the country’ the detective snarled, ‘she left because of you, and I – we – London needs her back, she doesn’t belong in France’ Sherlock mentally slapped himself for almost admitting his need of the tiny pathologist.

David’s eyes were wide, he’d recently come down from his high, and his mind was for once clear enough to contemplate everything that had happened. ‘The bitch left me once; i’m not going to let her leave again, and thanks for letting me know where she is,’ David smirked at the pissed off detective.

David didn’t see the fist coming, hitting him precisely on the nose, blood started falling rapidly, but Sherlock took no care. ‘If I ever see you here, if you ever set foot anywhere near my Molly, you will disappear, and trust me, no one will ever find you,’ he spat out, nostrils flaring, and jaws clenched.

This time David was scared, he could tell Sherlock was telling the truth, it was all there in the detective’s eyes. Sherlock let go, pushing David out the door, ‘you’ll be gone tomorrow, another country, and remember, never set foot here again.’ Sherlock finished before leaving David behind.

Xoxoxoxoxox

Three days had gone by when Sherlock returned, Molly had a day off and was spending it on the couch in her hotel room, she’d not yet found a suitable flat, it was hard finding the time when she’d been busy exploring the city.

She heard the door rattle, but she wasn’t worried, once again she knew it was Sherlock, it was always Sherlock. She sighed as she pulled her robe closer around her body, annoyed that he wouldn’t just leave her be, it was going to be hard getting over him if he insisted to keep coming to France, for whatever reason he had.

She chuckled a bit when she thought how reluctant the other pathologists would be to give away any of the body parts, or even of letting him use the microscope he preferred, let alone any microscope. There still noises behind the door, even a swearword or two, Molly shook her head, how he ever thought he’d be able to open a key card lock, she didn’t know.

Molly swung open the door only to find Sherlock on his knees staring angrily into the air where the lock had been only seconds ago. ‘Having trouble,’ Molly asked, holding back a laugh, ‘none at all,’ he scoffed as he got up from the floor, towering over her.

Molly kept her face clear of any emotions, she had nothing to say really, but obviously he was back for some reason. She turned away and walked into the room, leaving the door open so Sherlock could follow if he wished.

His hand closed around her wrist and he swung her around to face him, ‘you’re needed in London, at Barts. David is gone, for good.’ He said trying to reassure her that she had nothing to fear. She tried to pull away, tried not to look into his gorgeous green-blue eyes, but his other hand went to her face, pulling her chin up so she had nowhere else to look.

‘Sher-‘ she tried to pull away, but before she could get out his whole name his lips caught hers in a kiss, it wasn’t fireworks and passion. It was stopping time, heart in her throat, and goosebumps, basically everything she had ever dreamed of.

It didn’t take long for Sherlock to convince her coming back, after all, he had promised David was gone for good, and she believed him, Sherlock could be very scary when he wanted to be, and if he truly was as crazy about her as he’d said, and shown the last couple of days in France, then David was most likely far, far away.


	17. The case of the sick consulting detective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sherlock is sick, Molly looks after him.

Molly had promised Sherlock some toes which was why she found herself in front of 221B Baker Street after the end of her shift, it was close to nine in the evening, but Sherlock was on a case, so she was certain he was awake.

She knocked on the door, but nothing happened, thankfully she had an extra key, given to her by John when he moved out, he’d said he needed some help looking after the grown up five year old detective at times. Molly had giggled at his description of Sherlock, knowing how well it fit.

She strode up the stairs, still trying to keep quiet, obviously Mrs. Hudson was asleep probably having taken one of her herbal soothers, and Molly couldn’t dare wake her up, when she reached the door of Sherlock’s flat she could hear a load groaning. And the first thing she saw was Sherlock lying on the floor next to his couch.

Molly ran to his side and placed her hand on his forehead, he tried to protest, but the coolness of her hand on his skin was too soothing for him to make any serious objections. Molly swore under her breath, ‘you stupid man’ she mumbled angrily at him, causing the detective to roll his eyes, why did she have to fuss so much?

‘What did you do this time Sherlock,’ she inquired, pretty sure he had probably caught the cold under some stupid experiment. The man in question just groaned as he raised his hand to run it through his sweaty hair, Molly took hold of his hand before he returned it to his side. ‘You’re going to bed, now Sherlock,’ he didn’t complain as he followed her up from the floor.

‘Go to your bed, strip down to your pants, you’re sweaty, i’ll get you some water and Tylenol, and then you can go to sleep.’ Molly said sternly as she pushed the detective towards his bedroom. She was glad to see that he for once didn’t pout or start shooting deductions at her, but simply complied in silence. Molly found a clean glass after a few searches through his kitchen, muttering of his idiocy while doing so.

For good measure she filled a pitcher, and brought two extra pills for him to take later when he woke up, she went through a list of groceries in her head as she walked to his room, he was placed on top of the sheets, and Molly mentally slapped herself for obviously ogling at his bare chest, hating the faint blush she felt creeping up her cheeks.

She almost slapped him as she saw the smirk on his face; he’d no doubt seen her blush at the sight of him. Molly straightened her back and started walking to his bed, she placed the medicine and water on his bedside table, ‘i’m going to buy some groceries for you, some fruit and such, and i’ll go by Angelo’s and get you some supper ok?’ She asked as she scurried out of the room, leaving before he could object.

When Molly came back about an hour later Sherlock was fast asleep, snoring lightly, Molly went to his side and gently placed the blanket over him, before returning to the kitchen to fill the fridge with the food. She sighed when she opened it; she ended up deciding to clean it, labelling boxes so Sherlock would have no trouble locating his body parts and experiments.

After that she cleaned the dishes and sorted out his cupboards everything placed in a way Molly knew would work out for him, she could tell which items he used most often, from what was in the sink to be cleaned, and those things were the ones easiest to get to, she was proud of her work when she was done.

Molly took a seat on the couch, slipping into a light sleep before long, it was after all over eleven by now, and Molly had had a long exhausting day. Hours went by, and no other noises than those from outside the flat were heard, the sound of traffic running by in the early hours of the night gently drifting through the tiny cracks in the windows.

Sherlock started stirring, his headache was subsiding, but to make sure he grabbed the glass of water next to him, and took a pill, his stomach grumbled so he stood up and went to the kitchen, oblivious to the tiny sleeping pathologist on his couch. He smiled to himself as he opened the fridge, his brain although still groggy soon understood the order, he smiled even more as he realised she’d organised the cupboards as well, everything he used most often, the easiest to get to.

He walked to the living room and took place in his beloved chair taking a couple of bites of the toast Molly had without a doubt purchased for him, found in a box labelled – food – he’d rolled his eyes at Molly’s labels, but secretly – as in no one would ever know – he found it endearing. He was almost finished with eating when he caught a gentle breathing behind him; he turned to find Molly, sleeping silently with a small smile playing on her lips.

Sherlock got out of his chair, disposing of the plate in the kitchen sink before going back into the living room to pick up his sleeping pathologist. Molly encircled her arms around Sherlocks neck, snuggling close into his embrace. Sherlock carried her to his bed, placing her carefully, before falling onto it himself. He didn’t lie down close to her, but when they woke up the next morning, Sherlock feeling much better, they were entangled into each others arms.

Molly was feeling awkward, she woke first and tried untangling herself, but Sherlock only snuggled closer to her, making her escape impossible, she started pondering how she’d gotten there in the first place, she was sure she’d fallen asleep on the couch. Molly came to only one conclusion, but it seemed so surreal, that she dared not believe it to be true.

‘I carried you in here, you’d fallen asleep in what seemed to be a rather uncomfortable position, I found it only apparent that you’d be more comfy here,’ came the sleepy voice of Sherlock Holmes from next to her. ‘I still require at least another hour of sleep, and since my body has now become unusually snug with you next to me, I ask of you to stay, I will have Mycroft move your things,’ he said simply before burying his head in her hair.

Molly was stumped, Sherlock had just asked her to stay, and she was confused to say the least. Sherlock apparently felt her hesitation to relax back into his arms, ‘you’ll obviously move in here Molly, you can’t deny that you’ve had a better night’s sleep than the one you just had with me,’ Molly crashed her lips to Sherlocks before another tirade of word left his mouth.

Sherlock froze at the sudden attack, but soon met her kisses with equally passion and enthusiasm. When the need for air became apparent their lips parted, and their breaths slowed down exceptionally. Sherlock was smirking, he found he might just like living with his Molly, the kissing a definite upside of doing so. Before long they were both back to sleep, neither waking to the sound of John closing the door to – their – bedroom, and the whispered ‘finally’ flowing through the soundless flat.


	18. Mummy holmes visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sherlock and Molly show each other some childhood photos.

Molly and Sherlock had been together for a few months Sherlock was away on a case – it’s a 10 Molly, A 10 – he had all but shouted at her in all his eagerness. Molly had retorted to rolling her eyes, but a smile lingered gently on her lips, he so often reminded her of a child on christmas morning.

Molly had taken a day off; the last week had been – to say it lightly – absolutely horrid. So when the buzzer of 221B rang – Molly had been staying there while Sherlock was away – she groaned loudly, she was in no mood to entertain company.

Still she slumped down to open the door, finding herself face to face with two people she had only ever seen on a picture. Mummy and Daddy Holmes had apparently opted for a visit to their son. ‘Oh Mr and Mrs Holmes, i’m truly sorry, but Sherlock isn’t here, he’s away, on a case.’ Molly all but stammered she’d never been good with parents; actually she’d never been good with people, period.

Molly came to her senses, letting the Holmes parents inside, ‘you must be Molly, we’re so happy our dear boy has found you. I’ve been trying to set up a meeting for a few weeks, but he always comes up with an excuse, so I thought we’d stop by unannounced.’ Violet Holmes smiled as she talked. Molly was speechless, typical Sherlock, he hadn’t even told her, she’d have called his parents up, if she’d known, at least that way she wouldn’t have been surprised at their arrival.

Molly walked to the kitchen to make some tea followed closely by mummy Holmes; Mr. Holmes had taken a seat in Sherlocks chair, joined soon by Molly’s cat Toby. She’d brought him with her, not completely sure for how long she’d be staying.

‘You know, we honestly never thought Sherlock would find someone to love, even as a child he was a loner, his only friend was Redbeard,’ Molly looking confusedly at Mrs. Holmes, she’d never heard of Redbeard, but then again, Sherlock didn’t really like discussing his childhood, too much sentiment she supposed, which was fine, but she did have to admit that she was at times curious.

When the tea was ready she brought it into the living room, serving both of Sherlocks parents, leaving sugar and milk on the table. She smirked as both of them took just two sugars ¬– black, two sugars – just like their son. Mummy Holmes was observing Molly as the woman in question sat herself down on the couch, slowly stirring the milk around in her beverage.

Mrs. Holmes smiled, she went to get her bag, rummaging through it to find what she’d been looking for, a small photo album, full of pictures of Sherlock, his dog, and sometimes even his brother. She handed it over to Molly, ‘please look through it for as long as you want, I know he’s probably told you nothing about his childhood, I thought you should have the honour though.’

Molly smiled as she opened the album, the first picture of a tiny baby wrapped in a blue blanket, sleeping soundly in his brothers’ arms. ‘They were almost inseparable as kids, it started changing when Sherlock was about five,’ Mrs. Holmes added to the picture, Molly watched as Sherlock grew up through the pictures, a dog being added to many of the photos, ‘Redbeard?’ Molly questioned, earning a nod from mummy Holmes.

They day went by as the two women chatted about Sherlock, Molly’s childhood, the death of her father, her mother leaving them shortly after she was born, and Molly’s job. As the two Holmes’ left later that evening, they knew their boy had found the right companion; she was timid, loyal, and by the look in her eyes as she looked through the pictures, they knew she was most definitely in love with him.

Sherlock texted her not much later, informing her that he was on his way to her place, she quickly sent a text in return telling him she was at his place. She smiled as she placed the photo album with pictures of her childhood on his coffee table; she’d been by her place quickly after his parents’ departure. He might not have known what had been shared with her today, but she wanted him to know her, as she now knew him.


	19. Dream a little dream of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Molly tries to wake a sleepy Sherlock

Since Molly and Sherlock had started dating the detective had developed a somewhat normal sleeping pattern, he would always go to bed, and he would always sleep with his arms around Molly. Sometimes he slept all night, but other times he was only there for an hour or two, but he was always there at one point or another.

He had been on a case for three weeks, it had been a ten, and the detective had been very excited, he hadn’t had a ten in a very long time, his friends and girlfriend cringed a bit at his eagerness of the murders, but couldn’t deny that they were to some extent just as excited as Sherlock.

He was in deep sleep now, had been for about fourteen hours, he was having his – post case slumber – or so Molly had named it after moving in with him, John had been wildly upset that he had not thought of the name for his blog, thankfully Molly had given him permission to use it.

Molly was smiling down at Sherlock, all snuggled up in bed, she’d just gotten a call from Greg, there was a new case, a promising eight, and she knew he’d want to know about it, even if he wasn’t entirely rested from the last case. She brushed her lips against his cheek, waking him slowly.

He moved a little, mumbling a few curse words, it was easy to see, he wasn’t in the mood to get out of bed, or to even wake up. Molly giggled, ever the stubborn man-child, her loving, gorgeous, adorable man-child, although she’d never tell him that, he’d just put on a pout and mope around for days, if anyone ever told him he was adorable.

Her hand ruffled through his hair and she silently whispered for him to wake up, into his ear. He mumbled again, taking hold of her wrist and pulled her securely against him, burying his face in her hair, holding her so close to him, as if he never wanted to let go, Molly sighed, she loved when he held her, it was one of the times she felt most secure, safely held in his strong arms.

Sherlock started waking, a voice pulling him from his sleep, ‘Sherlock, we have a new case, it’s an eight I think, should be interesting,’ John was insistent in waking the consulting detective. Sherlock groaned, it had been two years since Molly’s death, but he still dreamt of her every night, still went to bed to hold her close, she was the only reason he still kept up the sleeping pattern he’d had when she was alive.

He took a deep breath as John walked out the room, staring around him he looked at the picture on his nightstand, Molly was laughing as he tickled her on the couch, he smiled at the memory, they’d had such a short time together, but it had been the happiest he’d ever been, the only regret, or one of the only regrets, was how long it had taken him to realise his feelings for the shy pathologist.

His only other regret was not being able to save her, seeing her bleeding on the floor of the morgue, one of the men he’d put in jail over her broken body. Sherlock hadn’t cared about the shooter, running to Molly’s side, holding her close, telling her over and over, begging her, to stay with him, and letting her know he loved her as she drew her last breath.

He got up from the bed as a single tear fell down his cheek, he dried it off quickly, Molly had told him not to mourn her, and he’d promised, she never had to know he hadn’t been able to keep the promise. John walked back into the room; he took a breath as he went over to the detective, placing a hand gently on his shoulder, letting a tear of his own fall freely.


	20. Tough day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sherlock and Molly comfort each other when they are upset.

Sherlock stormed through the doors to the morgue as usual, he was on an interesting case and needed Molly’s help immediately. He stopped abruptly when he noticed all the people running around muttering to themselves. Mike was in the middle of the room ordering everyone around; he only turned quiet when he noticed the consulting detective. ‘Molly’s not here Sherlock; I had to send her home.’ He shouted at Sherlock, cutting through the noise.

Sherlock scoffed as he turned around, sending a quick text to her mobile, she always answered right away when he messaged her, so he was rather disappointed when no answer came. He concluded the only way to get her attention now, was to go get her, so he got in a cab and shouted her address, ready to tell her off for ignoring him.

He stomped up the stairs in her building, and marched through her door, banging it closed as loudly as possible before yelling out her name. No answer sounded, and he started searching through her flat, there was an empty glass on her kitchen table, she’d had, two, no three glasses. He rolled his eyes, three glasses, really Molly.

He went straight to her bedroom, she was obviously sleeping it off, but when he came through the door he noticed the pill bottles on her bedside table, one was Tylenol, and the other was sleeping pills, Sherlock was close to panicking as he saw her take a breath. He went to sit down next to her, wondering what had caused her to mix medicine with wine, knowing full well as a doctor how dangerous that could be.

He tried shaking her, but got nothing more than a few silent groans, in the end after several tries of waking her up; he decided to just wait for her to wake up on her own. It couldn’t take that long he thought to himself. After waiting an hour he felt his lids dropping, he never slept on a case, but waiting for Molly turned out to be a very dreary affair, and he couldn’t continue on the case without her, so sleep seemed the best option while waiting.

When Sherlock woke again his arm was around Molly’s waist, he was groggy still, and realised he wouldn’t have woken if it had not been for Molly’s stirring, next to him. He sat up like a bolt, quickly removing his arm from around her. He waited as molly stretched the sleep out of her body and bones before speaking, ‘I need your help now Molly, please do get up and get dressed,’ he fired out as he got up from the bed.

‘No’ Sherlock was halfway through the flat, so the word was only a whisper to him, but it was said with enough force that he heard it loud and clearly. He stopped and turned, stalking back to Molly’s bedroom, ‘what is the matter with you, you always come when I call’ he said, annoyance apparent in his voice.

‘I just spend all of yesterday and the whole night through doing autopsies on kids, my last was on their pregnant teacher, she was having twin girls Sherlock, I had to tell her husband and their two year old daughter, Mike told me to take the next couple of days off, and I intend to do so,’ Molly snapped at him, turning on her side, away from him.

Sherlock was gaping at her, sure she told him off and scolded him from time to time, but he’d never seen her this timid – and to be honest, scary. – He said nothing for a while, just looked at the small bundle that was Molly Hooper, unsure of what to do next. He came to the conclusion that trying to cheer her up would be best, that way she’d again be happy to help him.

He went to the kitchen and made tea, tea always cheered Molly up, he found some kleenex, and picked up Toby from its place in the windowsill. He placed the tea next to her, and slipped swiftly back onto the bed, over the cover obviously, ‘I am sorry Molly, I should have been more thoughtful,’ he told her, puppy dog eyes at the ready.

‘It’s not going to work Sherlock,’ she mumbled as she pulled the duvet and blanket over her head, ‘Molly for gods sake, it’s a ten, and I need you help, it won’t take more than an hour’ he all but yelled at her. Molly sat up glaring at Sherlock through slits, ‘don’t shout at me Sherlock, that’s not going to help you, listen I have a headache, i’m tired, I almost cried myself to sleep, I won’t be any help, so just use one of the other pathologists, i’ll call and make them help you okay.’ She sighed, obviously tired of his insistence.

Sherlock put his hands in his hair and ruffled it with frustration, he hated working with the other pathologists, he’d told her many times, and still she refused. He texted John, he’d have to go to Barts, Sherlock simply had no intentions of lowering his IQ by going to talk to the others working with Molly, he’d explained exactly what John had to do and say, and to write everything down so Sherlock could take a look at it later.

He moved a little on the bed, making Molly sigh once again, ‘Sherlock’ she groaned, ‘please just leave me alone,’ Sherlock pulled off his dress shirt and went under her covers, John wouldn’t have answers until later, and the warmth seeping from Molly’s body, mixed with her yawns and stretches, caused the detective to grow sleepy, he closed his eyes, and pulled Molly close.

‘You’ll relax better this way, it might even give you some comfort,’ he scoffed as he felt her stiffen in his arms. ‘Ugh’ he opened his eyes in surprise when a pillow hit him in the stomach, Molly was staring angrily at him, but a smirk was playing on her lips, ‘that actually did make me feel better,’ she explained as she settled back into his embrace.

Sherlock found it weird that he was this comfortable with being near another person, it had felt awkward with Janine, and he’d never been able to sleep when she’d been in his bed. But with Molly it was different, he assumed it was because as much as he made her feel safe, she did the same for him, after all, she had always been there to catch him when he fell.


	21. Never underestimate Molly Hooper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm.. This is sort of awkward for me to ask, but lately I've been thinking of a Benloo fan fiction read... so.. um... yeah instead of Sherlock and Molly, how about Benedict and Loo? (Is it weird to ship and write stories about real people?)

Sherlock had been tense and annoyed with everyone for more than two weeks – well more so than usually – and John had trouble figuring out why, they’d had interesting cases, loads of brain teasers and murders, enough for Sherlock not to grow bored anyways.

The answer as to why Sherlock had been particularly pouty came one day in the morgue, ‘really Molly I thought you’d know better by now, how many times do I have to tell you not to date.’ Sherlock all but growled at her, ‘this one is obviously a fool like all the rest of them, and yet you still prefer to spend time with him instead of helping me with important matters.’

John smirked, he’d known for a while – or at least suspected – that there was more to the relationship between the detective and the pathologist that met the eye, of course neither of the two people in question were aware of this fact.

‘He’s an actor, I know him from school, and he was actually second in class, so if he’s a fool, then he’s a very clever one,’ Molly bit back, ‘and if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to go have lunch with him,’ she walked swiftly away from Sherlock, walking into her office to pack her bag.

Sherlock scoffed, it was the fifth time she’d taken the time off to see this guy, and all this time she could have helped him with important experiments, and solving murders. He clenched his hands and jaw, glaring irritatingly to where the pathologist had just disappeared.

Molly shrugged on her coat as soon as she re-entered the room, rolling her eyes at the pouting detective. ‘Listen you’ll still have access to the morgue and lab, and I know you’re capable at working with the other pathologists here.’ She sighed as he was still staring angrily at her.

John heard footsteps walking towards him, and he turned to look at the stranger who had to be Molly’s date. John wasn’t embarrassed to say that this man was possibly the sexiest man he had ever seen, and he could honestly see why Molly would chose him over experiments with Sherlock.

Molly stormed out the door; anger clear on her face, John knew Sherlock had most likely said something insulting. But as her eyes fell to Benedict her face lit up in a smile, one bigger than Sherlock had ever gotten from her. Ben grabbed Molly and pulled her close, leaning in to plant a kiss on her lips, just as Sherlock followed Molly through the doors.

He stood frozen and watched as this fool kissed his pathologist, and he felt a burning anger running through his body. ‘Are you ready to go babe,’ Ben asked Molly as she beamed up at him, she nodded and he took her hand in his and led her away from Sherlock and John.

John knew Sherlock was jealous, it was easy to see, and John could fully understand, he’d be jealous too, in fact he made a deal with himself to never let Mary meet this Ben guy. Sherlocks phone made a noise signalling a text from Lestrade, obviously Scotland Yard needed help with a case.

When Sherlock arrived at the crime scene he yelled at everyone he met, and within two seconds no one wanted to be near him, even Greg couldn’t seem to please the detective, even though the case was an eight.

However mad and irritated Sherlock was he buried himself in the case, it led them to an exclusive party, it was a masquerade so the two friends didn’t mind going there together, and they were wearing masks after all. As soon as they walked through the doors Sherlocks eyes turned to find the person he’d been looking for, he’d known she’d be here of course.

The case had been solved almost as soon as he’d turned up at the crime scene, John didn’t know that obviously. Molly was wearing a strapless black dress, the corsage looking top of it encased in golden embroidery; her eyes were covered in a black lace mask, Sherlock sneered as soon as he saw Ben’s arm around her waist.

Really the man had to be daft, the only clever man Molly had ever had the sense to love was Sherlock himself, he smiled smugly, if everything went according to plan, Ben would soon be out of Molly’s life, and she would once again only have eyes for him.

He flew across the dance floor, aiming to the band playing, he was going to request Molly’s favourite song, but before he could get a word in with the manager of the band, they started playing the song he’d had in mind, and he watched as Ben pulled a smiling, giggling Molly along in his hand, before pulling her into his arms.

Sherlock was fuming; he left the party immediately leaving John behind without a word. When he found the detective later he was in his chair at Baker Street, grumbling madly. As soon as he’d seen Sherlock run off, he’d looked to where the detective had been staring, soon enough discovering the real reason they’d been there.

He’d gone over to talk to Molly and Ben, finding out that he was a clever, and generous man, despite all that, John formed a plan, he would get Molly and Sherlock together if that was the last thing he did. He had to call in backup, soon both Mary and Lestrade knew about the true reason behind Sherlocks foul mood, and Johns plan of getting them together.

Molly had smirked when she saw Sherlock enter the ballroom, like John she had figured out Sherlocks feelings for her, just long before him, which was why she’d called the aid of her close friend Benedict, he was an actor after all, so he could play the part well, he’d winked at her when he too had seen the detective enter.

The next few days she started talking about a trip her and Ben were leaving for, stating that she would be away for a week. Sherlocks head had snapped up, and he’d gotten up from the chair so fast it fell to the ground, his face was red, and his mouth set in a straight line.

He went to leave the morgue, but soon changed his mind, he turned and stalked towards the petite pathologist, grabbing her face in his hands and crashing his lips to hers. Molly smirked against his lips, she’d thought it would have taken at least another month before he would have acted, but she was happy to be proven wrong.

When Sherlock let go of her, his breathing heavy from their kiss he took the time to truly look at her, realising just how big a fool he’d been. ‘So you’re not dating him then,’ he said, trying to sound annoyed, but Molly could sense a smidge of pride in his voice.

‘Nope,’ she dragged out the word as she’d heard him do so many times before, smiling up at him, ‘as it turned out, you saw but did not observe Sherlock, he is an actor after all,’ Sherlock took another look at Molly, before leaning in for another kiss, he smiled, knowing there was no one else like his Molly, his pathologist, no one else could have fooled him like that.

When john found out he laughed so hard tears fell from his eyes, to think that he, his wife and Greg had been planning to set them up, just to find out Molly had fooled them all was possibly the best thing that had ever happened in their tiny little group. The story of how their parents started dating was the Holmes Hooper kids’ favourite goodnight story, usually told by their uncle John.


	22. A matchmaking ex-assassin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlolly Prompt: a matchmaking Mary?

Mary was watching Sherlock and Molly fighting, again. Well they weren’t really fighting, Sherlock had insulted Molly as usual and Molly had snapped, and now she was yelling at him. John was in the middle of the two people, scolding Sherlock for being inconsiderate and trying to calm down Molly.

Sherlock had a look of indifference plastered on his face, looking cold as always. Mary smirked; he really was a child sometimes, the only reason as to why he had insulted Molly being her new boyfriend. Sherlock was right that the guy was an idiot, but he hadn’t stopped at that, telling Molly she was just as big an idiot for dating him.

He’d known of course as soon as the words had left his mouth that he’d gone too far, the look on Molly’s face had changed, and Mary had caught the appearance of his regret of the words he had so casually thrown out. Of course he had soon changed his face into a mask of indifference, and was now just looking at Molly shout at him with no interest what so ever.

Suddenly Molly fell silent; she looked at Sherlock her eyes empty, something Mary had never seen before. And soon Molly left; she’d grabbed her bag from its hook, and slammed the door and she was gone. Sherlocks brows furrowed, and Mary, huffed a sigh of annoyance.

She stalked over to the detective, watching as he once again had regret painted on his face, ‘oh Sherlock, what am I to do with you,’ she asked as she grabbed his arm. Sherlock closed his eyes; he knew another scolding was coming, so he was surprised when Mary just pushed him out the door.

‘Go say you’re sorry, and do it now, i’ve never seen her look this broken Sherlock, and if you don’t fix it, you’ll lose her,’ Mary said rapidly. She knew she’d said the right thing, Sherlock’s eyes turned blank, and he looked more lost than ever.

She watched as ran down the corridor, turning around the corner towards the stairs, no doubt hoping he could catch up with Molly before she came out of the elevator. John was standing in the middle of the morgue, hands placed on his hips, shaking his head.

‘They really need to just kiss and have passionate sex,’ Mary said as she shook her head like her husband had done seconds before. Johns eyes widened, ‘I, they, what?’ he spluttered, causing the ex-assassin to laugh. ‘You don’t see it? It’s so obvious they’re attracted to each other,’ she told him, leaving him to mull over it as she walked through the doors.

He followed her shortly after, he was still thinking, so she left him alone and started working out a plan to get Sherlock and Molly together, because really, they were perfect for each other, she was an ex-assassin, she knew.

A couple of days passed by, Molly had texted Mary the night of the fight that Sherlock had apologised, and Molly had reassured her that it had been a sincere apology this time, and not one of his usual puppy dog eyes and a compliment.

Mary would wish she had thought of a much more complex plan to get the consulting detective and his pathologist to admit their feelings for each other, but time was of the essence, and in the end she knew it would work.

Mary had learned that Sherlock would be at the morgue today, and she just so happened to know that Molly was working, in fact Sherlock never went to the morgue or the lab if Molly wasn’t working, which just another pointer to his feelings for her.

Mary had followed John, she knew it wasn’t a particularly hard, or even interesting case, it just so happened it was a case John would be able to solve by himself. Molly had gone into the storage room to pick up some samples for Sherlock, and Mary had set off her mission, pushing Sherlock into the room with Molly, before he could argue.

She quickly locked the door, took Johns hand, and informed him that today they were going to solve the case, while Sherlock and Molly solved their little “problem.” John had followed her with a look of utter amazement, loving her just that tiny bit more for fooling Sherlock into a storage room before locking him in.

Molly started shaking, she had never been one for small spaces, suffering a tiny bit of claustrophobia, and the storage room was small even with the door open, it didn’t help that the lighting was bad there as well. Molly placed her arms around her body as to protect herself better, and was surprised when another pair of arms joined hers.

‘Claustrophobic, I never would have guessed, you chose a peculiar job considering,’ Sherlock pointed out. Molly let out a strangled laugh, ‘I know, but I wanted to be a doctor, and you know how absolutely rubbish I am with living people, this just seemed like the right job for me, and I actual like it,’ she answered, settling into the unfamiliar, but welcome embrace of the consulting detective.

Sherlock chuckled at her answer, gently wiping away a stray hair from her head, she took in a deep breath closing her eyes, she knew she was blushing at the close contact. But as long as he was offering up any form of sentiment, she was going to take it selfishly.

‘I suppose there’s a purpose of Mary locking us in here,’ Sherlock asked after a while, it was Molly’s turn to laugh as she watched the confused look on Sherlock’s face. ‘Oh Sherlock,’ Molly said as she smiled shyly at him.

Molly shook her head at his still confused expression, an ‘oh’ escaped his mouth as he obviously realised what exactly the reason was, ‘I suppose she isn’t going to let us out until, um,’ he said worriedly, she shook her head, holding his gaze, giving him an apologetic look.

‘We’ll just act like we’ve made up, and everything can go back to normal, don’t worry, i’ll have a talk with her,’ molly said, playing with a strand of her hair. Sherlock was silent for a long time, and Molly turned more and more nervous, she hated silence, which was one of the reasons for her usual inane talking.

She jumped slightly as Sherlock raised his hand to her chin, raising her head, and causing her to look straight into his eyes. ‘I don’t want that Molly,’ he had a look of wonderment in his eyes, as if he’d just realised the most obvious thing in the world, it felt as he was truly seeing her for the first time, he held her gaze as he lowered his head, slowly catching her lips.

Molly’s eyes widened, his lips were soft against hers, gently placed over her. It took a few seconds before she thought of returning the kiss, running her tongue over his lower lip, biting it softly, a shiver went through her as he moaned and deepened the kiss.

Neither heard the outbreak of ‘oh my god’ erupting from John’s mouth, nor the ‘I told you so’ from Mary’s, the two of them had returned when they’d realised the case had been more than the five they had first suspected, but they had left quickly again as they’d seen the two people in the storage room finally getting the good snog they had needed.


	23. Make her smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Sherlolly Prompt: John finds a picture of a laughing Molly in Sherlock's bedroom.

John was looking for Sherlock, he’d just gotten what looked like a rather interesting case on his blog, and he showed up at 221B after tugging in his daughter for her afternoon nap. He’d knocked on the door, but as usual there had been no answer.

John opened the door with the key he had held on to, it was a nice security knowing what kind of trouble the consulting detective sometimes got himself into, he’d even made a copy for Mary and Molly, just to make sure.

He walked up the stairs to the familiar flat, not bothering to knock again and just strolling in, to his surprise Sherlock wasn’t there, not in the living room or kitchen anyways. John walked through the flat towards the bedroom, just to make sure the consulting detective indeed wasn’t home.

He opened the door to find it empty; John took a quick glance around, his eyes falling to Sherlocks nightstand, his eyes squinted at a stack of papers on top of it. At the first look he hadn’t thought much of it, but his eyes caught something underneath the pictures.

He usually wasn’t one for snooping, but he was curious as to what Sherlock was obviously trying to hide beneath the stack of documents. So John walked over to the table and picked up the papers, giving a small smile as his eyes fell on a picture of Molly.

Molly was laughing at something, wearing a true joyous expression, her hands on her stomach. He could tell it was an old picture; Molly never quite smiled or laughed like this anymore. For two years she had been keeping Sherlocks secret, she’d seen him high, seen him get shot, broken up an engagement, and had been taken hostage by Moriarty.

Of course Moriarty was gone now, but it was easy to see that everything had taken a toll on the normally cheerful pathologist. John furrowed his brows, he was confused as to why Sherlock had this picture, holding on to things like this was rather sentimental, and not at all something the consulting detective would usually do.

‘It’s a reminder,’ a voice came from behind John, scaring the hell out of him, he turned around quickly, his cheeks reddening at being caught in the act of snooping. ‘A reminder?’ he asked curiously, looking with raised eyebrows at Sherlock.

‘Yes, of how she used to look, and of how i’m going to make sure she looks like that again,’ Sherlock told John matter-of-factly. John was gaping at the consulting detective, he wasn’t completely sure he’d heard it right, but Sherlock looked serious, and John had no choice but to believe him.

When John looked closer he saw sadness behind the mask Sherlock had on his face, ‘you blame yourself,’ it wasn’t a question, but Sherlock nodded his head as silence fell between the two friends. ‘I’ll help you, I don’t like seeing Molly sad either,’ John finally expressed.

The next few weeks the two men left small presents on Molly’s desk, they started complimenting her; at first she had eyed Sherlock suspiciously, but had shaken her head in the end with a tiny smile. But to Sherlock and Johns dismay, even though she smiled much more, it still never quite reached her eyes the way it used to.

One evening Sherlock went to Molly’s flat, he was going to sort through her books as he had heard her mention to one of her colleagues that she really needed to alphabetise them. He picked her lock as silently as possible, knowing she was home asleep, and tiptoed to her shelf.

That’s when he heard the scream, his blood froze, and shivers ran through his entire being. He took no thought of being silent as he ran through the flat to her bedroom, there was no one with her, and Sherlocks heart slowed down rapidly.

Then he noticed the look of pain on Molly’s face, she was in the foetal position, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist, and tears falling from her eyes. Suddenly it all made sense to Sherlock, it wasn’t what happened during the day that made her sad, but what happened in her dreams.

He closed his eyes, mentally hitting himself for not seeing it; there was always something he missed. Quickly getting rid of his shirt and trousers he slipped in easily next to the sleeping pathologist. He placed his arms around her, and felt her relax slightly at the touch.

It took a while but soon a smile formed on Molly’s lips, the kind of smile Sherlock had wanted to see there for so long. He let out a low chuckle, as it turned out all she had ever needed was him, and he found – to his own surprise – that he would be willing to give her just that.


	24. The jealous consulting kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt if you want. sherlolly giant!kid!sherlock. Sherlock feeling possessive over Molly when she plays with other children.

Sherlock was watching as Tom was chatting up Molly, granted he was only asking her about her upcoming birthday. But Sherlock was fuming, he hated when other kids talked to Molly when she was supposed to spend time with him. 

She and John were the only friends he had, at first he hadn’t actually counted her as a friend, but she had defended him even though he’d made her sad on more than one occasion, for everything he had done, she’d remained loyal, and in the end Sherlock couldn’t deny that she was indeed his friend.

But that friend was now engaged in a chat with – Tom – Sherlock despised Tom, he was trying to take Molly from him, and he didn’t like it. He watched as they ran to the swings together, Molly jumping cheerily onto one, and Tom starting to push her.

Sherlock scoffed, he was annoyed that Molly couldn’t tell what Tom was trying to do, she was after all a clever girl. He stalked over towards the swing set, only to be disrupted by John, ‘she’s allowed to have other friends Sherlock,’ John told the obviously jealous Sherlock.

Sherlock stopped abruptly and threw an evil glare at his only other friend, his only other – slightly stupid – friend. Sherlock let out a puff of air and walked off angrily, leaving John to himself. John made a small laugh, he knew Sherlock had few friends, but honestly, Molly was a sweet girl, and she was bound to have many friends.

Molly had caught the hurt look on Sherlocks face before he walked off, and jumped off the swing. She ran to John, asking him the question with her eyes. ‘He’s jealous, he thinks you’ll leave him,’ John told her exasperatedly, rolling his eyes, causing the young girl to laugh.

She spotted Sherlock glaring at the two of them from the side of the playground, giving him a smile and a wave. He turned from them, crossing his arms. She giggled, he really was possessive for a seven year old boy, but somehow she truly appreciated it.

It meant a great deal to Molly to be a friend of Sherlock Holmes, knowing he never made any attempts at getting friends, having been able to worm her way into his life made her strangely proud. She walked slowly to him, she could tell he knew she was coming, but he was still in a protective pose.

‘Thank you,’ Molly said as she reached his side, she smiled as the expression on his face changed, she knew she’d said something that puzzled the boy, much like she always did. His posture changed a bit too, his arms relaxed a bit around him, and he turned slightly towards her, his eyebrows raised.

‘For letting me be your friend,’ she said simply, turning to look at John, and giving him a small wink. Sherlock scowled as John started laughing as he walked off. ‘I worked very hard to become your friend you know,’ Sherlock gave a nod, he knew of course.

‘And i’m going to be your friend for as long as you want,’ she spoke once more, he wasn’t looking at her, but she could tell by the small smile grazing his lips, that they would be friends for a very long time. ‘Tom asked if he could come over for my birthday,’ as the words left her mouth, Sherlocks stance became protective again.

‘But I told him I was spending it playing pirates with my two best friends,’ at that Sherlock turned to her, smiling and showing his teeth. Molly giggled, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and ran off. Leaving Sherlock to go back to the swings, now joined by John.

Sherlock brought his hand to his cheek where Molly’s lips had touched, he knew there was a blush creeping up on him, and he knew his eyes had widened, he felt like everyone was staring at him, even though the only one who’d noticed was Molly, hiding her smile behind her long auburn hair.


	25. She always surprise him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The media finds out about Sherlock and Molly's relationship before they told John, Lestrade, ect. All hell breaks loose.

‘What the hell’ the words floated up the stairs to the flat of one Mr. Sherlock Holmes, he knew the storm was coming ever since the media had announced his relationship to Molly Hooper. They’d been keeping it a secret for quite some time, as they tried to figure out how to do the whole dating thing.

They’d had fun trying to plan dates, having to keep out of the way of not only his brothers’ eyes, as well as the media and their friends. If you would ask either of them, the planning of their dates, had been even better than the dates they were planning.

But now – much to Sherlocks dismay – the truth was out, and the rage of their friends for having kept it a secret was upon them. Molly’s eyes were closed as she hid her head in the hollow of Sherlocks neck, ‘they’re going to hate me,’ she mumbled on his skin.

Sherlock chuckled, ‘no one could hate you Molly. Besides we did the right thing, and they’ll understand, eventually.’ Sherlock ran his fingers absently along her spine, trying to comfort her. He smiled, he loved the way Molly cared so much for people, and how she cared so much for him. It was a puzzle to him, but one he was quite comfortable with not solving.

John was storming up the stairs, his face red as a tomato, and his hands clenched into fists. He slammed the door open to find the consulting detective, and Molly wrapped up together in Sherlocks chair. ‘So?’ He asked furiously, placing his hands on his hips.

‘So,’ Sherlock asked indifferently, a raised eyebrow at the doctor’s question. ‘Tell me, how long?’ There was another slam of the door downstairs, and then another set of footsteps on the stairs. Lestrade entered the room, followed closely by Mycroft and his assistant Anthea.

Molly’s cheeks were turning red as she turned her head to look at the people, obviously expecting an explanation. ‘Yes we’re together,’ Sherlock explained calmly, ‘we have been for the last,’ ‘three months’ Molly whispered in his ear. ‘Yes, for the last three months.’

John, Lestrade, and Mycroft all started yelling at the couple. John furious that as Sherlocks best friend, he believed he deserved to have been told before the media. Lestrade was mad because he was certain Sherlock was just playing with Molly’s feelings. And Mycroft was cross with Sherlock because he’d told him time and time again, that love was a chemical defect found on the losing side.

‘Stop it,’ Molly shouted at the angry flock, causing everyone to raise their eyes to her. ‘John, I understand that you’re mad at us for not telling you.’ She took in a deep breath, ‘but you have to understand that neither Sherlock nor I are very good at the whole relationship business, we needed time to figure it out.’

‘Greg, I know when Sherlock is being sincere, I know he means it when he says he loves me.’ She gave the DI a glare as he was about to say something. ‘And for the record, I am a fully grown woman; I do not need you to look out for me, however much I appreciate it.’

She’d gotten up from her seat on Sherlocks lap, and walked towards Mycroft, a finger raised at the British government. ‘And Mycroft, I helped Sherlock fake his death out of love, and Sherlock faked his death to save those he loves. For me, and many others in this world, love is found on the winning side.’ She finished as she was now completely face to face with Sherlocks older brother.

She was much smaller than the man, but the look in her eyes, and the determination present in her stance made her three times taller than him. For some reason he smirked at the pathologist, he had always seen her as insignificant, but he now knew from the way she’d stood up, not only to him, but john and Lestrade as well. That she was indeed a most suitable companion for his younger brother.


	26. Mycroft: The matchmaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mycroft is a massive Sherlolly shipper, and comes up with some elaborate plan to get them together.

Sherlock and John were seated in their respectable chairs in 221B Baker Street, Sherlock was in his mind palace, and John was dosing off. Sherlocks eyes opened at the familiar ping of his cell, and his blood started pumping at the excitement of a – hopefully – interesting new case.

*J IBWF NPMMZ IPPQFS* Sherlocks brows furrowed; obviously it was some sort of code. He jumped up from his chair, shocking John out of his slumber. ‘I do believe we have a case,’ Sherlock said happily. For the next couple of minutes the two men were mulling over the text, when Sherlocks eyes suddenly went wide.

John looked curiously at him, the detective looked almost scared. ‘You solved it then, what does it say?’ John asked, hating himself for being almost as excited as Sherlock. Sherlock had turned white as a sheet, ‘someone has got Molly,’ Johns blood froze.

From that moment everything seemed to be going in slow motion, Sherlock had contacted his brother, and John had called in Greg – and because she was an ex-assassin – he’d chosen to contact his wife as well. The number from which the text had come from had been tracked, but it had led nowhere.

All they could do currently was waiting; John could tell it was taking a toll on the consulting detective. After everything that had happened in the last year, Sherlock had only just started patching things up with Molly. Sherlock was pacing back and forth, putting everyone else on nerve, but he didn’t seem to care.

The longer they didn’t hear from whoever had taken Molly, the more anxious Sherlock became. After five hour with no word, Mary decided to go pick up some food, they were going to need it. When she returned there had still been no word, so they all jumped when Sherlocks phone rang.

He jumped from his place by the window, swiftly bringing it to his ear, ‘yes’ he said simply, waiting for an answer. ‘Sherlock,’ Molly’s voice was shaking, and Sherlock could tell she’d been crying. ‘Molly, Molly where are you,’ Sherlock said, already halfway out the door.

John and the others followed him, Mary still eating greedily from the food she’d bought – she was pregnant after all – and therefore needed the dim sum currently in her hands. Sherlock brought out his hand to catch a taxi, but seconds later one of Mycroft’s cars drove to the curb, and they all entered.

They drove for about two and a half hour before arriving at the lighthouse in a town called Southwold, finding the pathologist huddled up on a bench. She was wearing nothing but a short summer dress, holding her arms around her in an attempt to keep herself warm in the chilli ocean air.

Sherlock ran from the car picking her up into his arms, holding her close to his lean body. She was shivering, but brought up her hands to Sherlocks chest for support. Both of them oblivious to the party of five staring at them one with a very obvious smirk on his lips.

Mycroft counted himself a very clever man, now his mother would surely stop asking him for grandchildren. Sherlock would most likely realise the deceit, but right now Mycroft’s younger brother was too busy kissing the woman he had recently realised his feelings for.


	27. Jealousy is a fickle friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jealous Sherlolly

Sherlock and John had slipped quickly through the doors to a secluded bar in order to get away from their pursuers, and were currently trying to catch their breath. Both slumped against the wall of the pub, holding their hands to their stomach, trying to get back any resemblance of composure.

John was slowly getting back his breath, and went to look for the men who had been following them, when he caught the sight of someone they knew. Out on the dance floor of the dark, and stuffed pub, was Molly Hooper. She was dancing closely with a tall blonde guy.

‘Bloody hell,’ John mouthed as he watched her grind slowly against the blonde stranger. When he turned back to Sherlock the detective was nowhere to be seen, so John left the pub, certain of the detectives’ departure.

John went back to Baker Street to wait for the consulting detective, but left for his home after an hour. 

Sherlock had seen Molly dancing with the blonde, and he had stalked straight towards them. He stopped a few steps away, and glared angrily at the couple.

The guy she was dancing with was moving his hands down her spine, resting them just above her arse, pulling the pathologist closer to his body than she had already been. Sherlock flexed his hands; they were tingling to punch the smug smile off his ugly face.

He all but ran out of the pub before he did something he would regret, taking to punching at a pillow when he walked through the door to his flat. Molly had been unaware of the two familiar faces, but her date for the evening had noticed a rather grim looking guy staring lividly at them, he had however chosen not to say anything when the man left.

For the next few days Sherlock treated Molly absolutely terrible, John had to hit the detective at one point, to get him to shut up. Molly as always took every harsh word from the detective, just like she always had, and John respected her greatly for it.

Five days after Molly had enough, Sherlock had just commented on her father, and if there was something she did not tolerate, it was mean words about her family. She didn’t shout, or hit him; she didn’t say one thing to the detective.

Her eyes just grew cold, losing all emotion she had left in her, and she walked out the room, closing the door silently behind her. Sherlocks face fell as he realised what he’d done, ‘wow mate, I think you just pushed away one of the only people who loves you,’ John left, disappointment clear in his expression.

Molly was curled up on her couch; she was halfway drunk, having downed almost a whole bottle of cheap red. She had chosen a book from her shelf, but had found that she was in no mood to actually read it, and it was now lying abandoned on her coffee table.

‘I’m sorry Molly’ Sherlocks voice was dripping with humiliation and regret. 

Molly jumped up from her position at the sound; she’d not even heard him pick her lock. She turned her gaze downward, determined not to look at the consulting detective. She knew deep down that he’d be able to get her forgiveness, just by looking at her with those gorgeous green-blue eyes.

‘Please leave Sherlock,’ she whispered before turning around on her couch, away from Sherlock. She thought he’d left when she didn’t hear him talk back, but was shocked once more when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

‘Please Molly, forgive me,’ Molly closed her eyes at his words, she could hear, even feel and see the sadness in his posture, but how could she ever let him into her life again? She took a deep breath before turning to finally face him; she bit her lip, still unable to meet his stare.

‘I was jealous,’ Sherlock admitted, hating the fact that Molly refused to look at him. She finally raised her eyes to his, his stomach fell as he saw the raw pain. ‘I saw you five days ago, you were,’ Sherlock stopped, sentiment was not his forte, and explaining how angry and frustrated he’d been seeing her dance with someone else, proved to be exceptionally hard.

Molly raised her brows in recognition, she had felt David freeze for a second while dancing, his eyes focusing on someone behind her, but when she’d turned to look, there had been nothing to see. ‘You were at the club?’ She asked curiously. ‘Yes, John and I were being chased, we ducked in to slip away from our pursuers,’ he declared. 

Her mouth perked up in a tiny smile,’ when I saw you with that, that guy. I just, I was, you see.’ Sherlock had never had this much trouble getting any words out of his mouth; he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. 

He hadn’t noticed Molly get up from the couch, hadn’t noticed that she was now right in front of him, her face only mere inches from his. She pulled him down for a bruising kiss by his collar, blowing him out of his thoughts. It took him several seconds to reciprocate, but when he did he was just as into the kiss as Molly was, finding that it was much easier to express his feelings with his mouth pressed against hers.


	28. Lollipop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly is licking a lollipop. Leaving Sherlock with dirty thoughts.

Sherlock ruffled his hair for the seventh time in five minutes, he was at the lab doing experiments, trying to keep out of boredom. However as it turned out, he was having a hard time concentrating. Molly had recently celebrated her birthday, and had received a basket with an assortment of different sweets, and two bottles of wine, from work.

Which was why she was currently busy suckling on a red lollipop, the sound of it popping out of her mouth every now and then, drove the consulting detective mad, along with the sight of her tongue grazing over the surface of the sweet sticky piece of candy.

He stood up from his stool abruptly, shocking the pathologist out of her thoughts, and causing her to look curiously at him. He growled as he once more ran his hands through his hair, dragging his fingers to massage his temple, frustrated at the reaction his body was experiencing.

‘What’s wrong Sherlock,’ Molly asked running the lollipop over her lips, and tracing it with her tongue. His cock twitched in his pants as he followed the tip of her tongue with his eyes, and he darted his eyes towards his Belstaff hanging on its hook, he ran straight to it, grabbing it quickly before he left the lab.

Sherlock found himself taking a cold shower as soon as he entered his flat, running thoughts of his brother – the British government – exercising on his treadmill through his head. But his mind wasn’t cooperating with him, and soon Molly was there, flipping her tongue over the head of his cock, exactly like she’d flipped it over the lollipop.

He didn’t go to see her for days, but he couldn’t avoid her anymore when a case turned up and he was in need of the lab. He was grateful for the fact that Molly wasn’t eating any sweets this time, but as soon as he’d set his eyes on her lips; he found it once again hard to concentrate. Sherlock demanded his mind to concentrate on the case, and soon two hours had passed by, and Molly had gone home.

Sherlock and John had solved the case a day later; the experiment had led the two friends to an abandoned building five miles outside of London. With the smuggling ring now out of the way, Sherlock was once again left alone with his treacherous thoughts.

He made a decision, one that could most likely ruin his friendship with the pathologist for good, on the other hand he reasoned, their friendship could blossom into something much more.

Molly opened the door, not surprised to see who was outside, it was after all a quarter past midnight, and Molly knew of no one else who turned up at her flat at a time like that.

She was however surprised when Sherlock pushed her up against the wall, his whole body pressed against hers. Sherlock crashed his mouth over hers, tracing her lips with his tongue, and emitting a deep moan as he imagined the sweet taste of the cherry lollipop on her lips.

Molly was about to pull away in shock, but his moan did things to her body that she would be embarrassed to admit to any one other than the man who was kissing her so wonderfully. Their tongues met in a heated battle, and it didn’t take long before Molly could feel Sherlocks arousal against her hip, and she moaned her approval.

Sherlock slowly pulled away when both needed air to their brains. Molly looked Sherlock straight in the eyes, ‘what do you need?’ She asked, a smile playing at the side of her mouth. ‘You’ the detective answered, once more leading his lips to meet hers.


	29. Two Weddings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Molly spontaneously elope while on a case (Mycroft clears the legal way for them); John and Mary (and possibly Mummy and Daddy Holmes) are not amused at having been left out and insist on a proper wedding? Bonus for wedding night(s)! (Who, me, greedy? Whhaattt?)

xO The first wedding Ox

Molly and Sherlock were currently seated on the Spanish steps in Rome, Italy. Sherlock was on a case, and he had insisted that Molly went with him. She wasn’t entirely happy about the fact that their first trip away as a couple was due to a case, but as she closed her eyes and felt the sunrays caress her face, she couldn’t find it in her to complain.

Sherlock was scanning the plaza in front of them, searching for the kidnapper of a seven year old girl. The case was for his brother, as the girl was the daughter of some largely important man in Britain, Sherlock had only taken the case to find the girl. 

After an hour Sherlock spotted the man he was waiting for, a contact of his who had information about the little girl. ‘Mr. Holmes, we meet again,’ Harry said extending his hand to the detective. Sherlock gave the man a brief nod with his head, motioning for Molly to get up from her place on the steps.

Harry eyed Molly hungrily, much to the annoyance of Sherlock, and when Harry extended his hand towards her, Sherlock stepped between the two. Molly rolled her eyes, ‘possessive git,’ she muttered under her breath, so only the detective could hear her, he gave her a roll of his eyes back as his answer.

The two men exchanged words, while they headed for an alleyway not far away. Sherlock found himself frustrated whenever he caught Harry staring at Molly, as she had muttered just minutes earlier, he was indeed a possessive git.

Molly giggled when she saw the grim expression on her significant others – Sherlock had refused to let her call him her boyfriend – face. She took hold of his hand, squeezing it lightly, to let him know that she was his and his alone. The detective squeezed back, and granted her with a smile directed her way.

Sherlock and Harry discussed the case, hidden away in the small secluded alley, Molly looking around to see if anyone had followed them. Suddenly Sherlock placed his hand on her shoulder and led her away, ‘Harry’s seen one of the men we suspect had something to do with the kidnapping in a town not far from here, we’ll go there tomorrow.’ Sherlock informed her.

Sherlock had taken the liberty to call his brother seconds after Harry had left, and while Molly had still been busy keeping a lookout. There was a small church called San Nicola in Carcere not far from their hotel they were staying at, and Sherlock had every intention of marrying Molly tonight before they left the city of Rome.

It was true that they hadn’t been together for long, but they had known each other for nearly seven years, so to Sherlock it all seemed logical. Mycroft had procured the legal papers – much to his dismay – but knowing there was no stopping his brother.

He took her hand and started walking to their hotel, ‘I think we should go out tonight Molly, this is after all our last night in Rome,’ Sherlock said as he looked to his pathologist. The side of her mouth twitched as she nodded her approval, stopping to pull him in for a quick kiss.

After their dinner Sherlock brought Molly back to the Spanish steps, it had been their hangout for the last three days, and he found that it would be the right place to propose. Molly had leaned back her head as she gazed to the night sky, thousands of stars scattered against an almost black canvas.

Molly had closed her eyes, so she only heard Sherlock shifting next to her; he shocked her out of her thoughts when he took hold of her hand. Admitted he had never been one for romance – or any kind of sentiment really – but he wanted to do things right with molly, he wanted to make her happy.

‘Molly Hooper, I confess that I had never thought I would be one to succumb to sentiment, nor had I ever foreseen that I would want to ever get married.’ He smiled at Molly’s now wide eyes, her mouth gaping down at the kneeling detective. ‘But as it turns out, you have changed that, which is why I am now asking you to consider becoming my wife.’

Molly was gobsmacked – to say the least – never in all her life had she expected that question to come from Sherlock. She knew he was committed to their relationship, and that was all she’d ever needed. But now watching him in front of her, down on one knee, she had never felt more loved.'

‘Yes,’ she whispered, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. ‘Wonderful, I thought you might say yes, the church is only fifteen minutes away.’ Sherlock reported, jumping from his spot on the ground, and pulling Molly up with him.

Molly’s mind was working on overdrive, unable to process the fact that not only had Sherlock just proposed, but as it turned out, they were in fact getting married right away. It didn’t take long for them to reach the church with Sherlocks long strides, and Molly now found herself looking at the church in awe.

Molly shed tears as Sherlock recited his vows to her, biting her lower lip in total disbelief that this was truly happening. Sherlock took her into his embrace after the ceremony, lifting her up, and swinging her around, it was the happiest she had ever seen him.

Molly shocked the detective when she pulled him flush against her body as soon as they entered their room; she kissed him with fervent need, pulling off his blazer urgently. He chuckled at her eagerness, watching as she walked to their bed, divesting of her clothes on her way.

Sherlock followed her movements, the curve of her hips as she sauntered through the room, and the colour of her dusky nipples as she turned to face him. He walked slowly, deliberately toward her, licking his lips in anticipation, he did love the feel of her hardened nubs against his tongue.

He stripped of his own clothes, and ended up naked in front of her, gently placing his hands on her waist as he laid her down on the sheets. He covered her entire body with his, and finally planted his mouth on her already heated skin.

He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone, and ended up swirling his tongue around one of her nipples, while bringing his hand to the other. Molly’s moan rang through the hotel room. Her fervent sound of contentment, and her hands now pulling his hair, made a shiver go through Sherlocks body.

Her nipples were taut when he finished his ministrations, and he left them to go further down her delicious sweet little frame. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and sucked her clit into his mouth; earning another deep seated moan from the woman he could now call his wife.

He licked and sucked gently at her folds, making her ready for his shaft, he never quite needed to as she was always wet for him, but he enjoyed the taste of her on his tongue. Molly pulled at his tresses, motioning for him to come up and meet her lips; she ran her tongue over his lower lip, tasting her own musky scent on it.

Sherlock growled when Molly took hold of his prick, running her hand up and down in soft motions, it was already aching to pound into her wet heat. Sherlock pulled her hands away, placing them above her head, and moved his own to her waist. Molly hooked her ankles behind him, efficiently pulling him as close as humanly possible.

Sherlock moved one hand from her waist to take hold of his cock; he placed it at her entrance, and slammed it inside of her with a loud unrestrained groan. Sherlock had set a punishing pace from the beginning, pushing roughly into her. She clawed at his back, no doubt leaving marks, and only making Sherlock go faster.

Molly came with a scream, ‘oh god Sherlock,’ the words and the clenching of her orgasm around his prick led him to his own completion. He fell against her, used of all the energy he possessed. Molly brought her hands to his curls, running her fingers through them gently.

Sherlock rolled to his side, pulling Molly with him, leaning her against his chest; she ran her fingers over his abdomen absentmindedly. They fell asleep shortly after, tired after a long day in the sun, and after an emotional evening, ending it as man and wife.

xO The second wedding Ox

Sherlock and Molly returned to London after three days, the girl found and returned to her parents’. It hadn’t occurred to Molly that she wasn’t wearing a ring, even though she and Sherlock had been married since that wonderful last night in Rome.

The first time she thought of it, was when she woke up a few days after their arrival at 221B, with one placed on her finger. She was observing the beautiful ring when Sherlock walked in to the room, smiling at his wife as he sat down next to her.

‘It’s white gold, and the diamond is 0, 25, I thought about getting a bigger one, but that’s really more for engagement rings,’ Sherlock informed her. ‘It’s beautiful Sherlock, thank you,’ she smiled at him, before leaning in for a soft loving kiss.

A couple of days passed by without any interesting disturbances, that was until John finally noticed the ring on Sherlocks finger. ‘What’s the ring for?’ He inquired curiously, watching as Sherlock turned his gaze downward, his mouth forming a small secret smile.

‘I suppose I was just under the impression that married people usually wear rings,’ he answered the doctor sarcastically. John furrowed his brows ‘married, what do you mean?’ Sherlock let out an exasperated breath. ‘Really John, have you learned nothing,’ he remarked, shaking his head at the oblivious man.

John opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to comprehend what the detective had just stated. ‘So what you’re saying is?’ He tried, hoping Sherlock would say what he was thinking. ‘Is that i’m married John, honestly.’ Sherlock sounded annoyed at his friends’ ignorance, and ultimately returned to the experiment he had been busy with before John had inquired about the ring.

‘With w-‘ John stopped as Molly walked into the lab and his eyes darted to Molly’s finger, ‘well bloody hell,’ John gasped, staring wide-eyed from the detective to the pathologist. It was the first time John saw Molly since she had returned with Sherlock from Italy, and it was only due to the fact that Molly had no autopsies today, that she was wearing the ring on her finger.

John slumped onto one of the stools, his expression painted with disbelief, never in a million years believing that his friend, the self-proclaimed high functioning sociopath, would ever take a wife. ‘Soooo’ he dragged out the word, pointing at the two people, ‘how long?’

Molly looked to Sherlock, a rosy blush forming on her cheeks making the detective smirk as he knew exactly how far down that blush could go. ‘Well um, we’ve been dating for a couple of months, but only got married eight days ago,’ Molly answered as she looked to the floor, obviously embarrassed of the fact that they’d kept their relationship a secret.

‘Married,’ came a squeak from the outside of the lab, Sherlocks eyes widened as he realised who it was. His mummy marched through the doors, an angry look plastered on her face, and her eyes tiny slits. Mummy Holmes took hold of her youngest son’s ear, why did I not know about this?’ She questioned.

Molly giggled slightly as she saw the horror on Sherlocks face, causing in an evil glare shot her way from her husband. ‘I apologise mummy,’ he started, but it only earned him a slap on the back of his head. ‘Well when is the real wedding?’ She requested, looking for an answer from Molly.

‘Real wedding,’ Molly asked confusedly. ‘I have no hope that Mycroft will marry, so damn it, you are to be married in a church, with your family and friends present,’ Mrs. Holmes demanded.

‘To be fair mummy, we did get married in a church,’ Sherlock muttered under his breath, stepping away from her reach as she was about to hit him again.

‘I’ll arrange everything, we’ll do it this weekend,’ she informed the couple, walking out the door before either of them could interject. ‘Well I guess i’m going to a wedding this weekend then,’ John offered, laughing at Sherlocks facial expression. ‘Oh shut up John,’ Sherlock sneered, before planting a kiss on Molly’s cheek and returning once again to his experiment.

The next day Molly was picked up by Anthea and Mrs. Holmes, she was informed that they were going shopping for a wedding dress. She soon found herself in one of the most exclusive stores she’d ever set foot in, ‘i’m sorry,’ she stammered, ‘this isn’t really me’ she started walking backwards headed for the doors.

‘Oh you’re right,’ Mrs. Holmes apologised as she saw how uncomfortable Molly was, ‘you’re absolutely right, this is far too extravagant,’ she said, taking a hold of Molly’s upper arm, and leading her back out of the store.

Molly came home that night with a huge smile on her face, she’d found exactly the right dress, it was simple, but sexy, although she had tried not to go too far overboard like she had that christmas so long ago. Sherlock had texted her an hour earlier that he’d been called out on a case, so Molly took out the dress from the bag and studied it with awe.

She hid the dress in the depths of Sherlocks closet; she still had her own apartment as her lease had not yet run out, but she still spent most of her time at 221B. 

Three hours with Mrs. Holmes had taken up much of Molly’s energy, so after taking a small glass of red Molly went to bed.

It was Friday evening and Molly had suddenly become nervous, it was one thing getting married when there was barely anyone present but herself and Sherlock. But tomorrow they would get married again in front of their friends, and Sherlocks family.

Sure the wedding was still small, nowhere near the size of john and Mary’s. But Molly hated being the centre of attention, the opposite of Sherlock really; he thrived on it except when he had to explain why he was right – which he often had to. –

Mary had picked up her wedding dress from Sherlocks closet; as they were spending the night apart, demanded by Sherlocks mother. The two women were enjoying a bottle of fine wine Molly had saved for a special occasion, having finished eating they’d moved to Molly’s couch, and were now busy talking about the next day.

The bell rang and Molly walked to open the door for John. ‘Are you ready to go honey,’ he asked Mary, reaching out his hand for her. ‘Coming dear,’ she answered before pulling Molly into her arms, giving her a long friendly hug. ‘Good luck,’ she cheered, feeling the effects of the wine.

Molly started to get ready for bed, brushing her teeth and hair, and washing off the little make-up she had on. She snuggled down under the covers, and soon drifted off, not even waking when someone slid down next to her, kissing her forehead lovingly. Sherlock had found he was unable to sleep without Molly next to him, so he’d snuck into her flat, Molly never knew as he’d left before she woke.

Molly had shyly asked Mycroft if he would lead her up the aisle, he had after all made it possible for them to get married so quickly the last time, and Molly suspected he’d helped his mother this time as well. Sherlock had smirked as a blush had spread on his brother’s face, obviously Mycroft had never suspected she would ask him, but he’d given her his approval with a curt nod.

The time had finally arrived; Sherlock was standing at the altar with John, somehow nervous at the whole business. That changed when she walked through the church doors. The dress she wore was simple, made of lace, and it fit her body perfectly.

Sherlock would deny it when people asked him about it, but John would swear that the detective gaped when Molly walked through the doors, floating up the aisle, a bright smile, and a biting of her bottom lip as she walked toward them. When she was close enough Sherlock brought out his hand to pull her to him, missing the smirk from his brother.

Mary, Mrs. Hudson, and mummy Holmes were crying, even Mr. Holmes shed a tear or two during the vows, earning him a loving smile and kiss from his own wife. When the ceremony ended Sherlock and Molly walked out the church soon met by all their guests.

The party went well, there were no murders or kidnappings, and Sherlock managed not to insult too many people. Molly tried talking to as many of the guests as possible, but she had always been rather awkward, and often scared people away with one of her morbid jokes. John had caught Sherlock laughing at one of them, and remembered thinking to himself that the couple was indeed meant to be.

The two of them danced for most of the evening, and Molly shed tears when Sherlock made a speech as he held her hand. When the time came for them to leave the party, their guests had gone outside to greet them goodbye, and to participate in the tradition of throwing rice at the sort of newlyweds.

The ride in the limo was silent, Molly’s hand was gently laying in Sherlocks, and her head was placed on his shoulder, her eyes closed. It had been a long and emotional day for both of them, and they were both tired of having been the attention of so many people – more than they were used to anyways. –

‘I just remembered something,’ Sherlock said as they stepped out of the car, Molly looked curiously at him with her brows raised. The detective smiled as he swooped her into his arms, and carried the now laughing Molly up the stairs to their flat.

Molly had secretly gone to buy some new underwear, it was dark purple, just like her favourite shirt on Sherlock, and it was lace like the dress, she couldn’t wait to show it to him. Sherlock kicked the door closed behind them and put down his wife, still holding her close to him. ‘Welcome home Mrs. Holmes,’ he whispered seductively into her ear.

She knew he was trying to be seductive, and she knew it was wrong, but Molly started laughing, holding her hand to her now hurting stomach. She had left Sherlock quite scared for her health, and had to take several breaths before being able to explain herself. ‘I’m sorry honey, it’s just when you say Mrs. Holmes, it reminds me of you mother, it’s what I usually call her,’ Molly was still giggling, and Sherlock started chuckling alongside her.

Molly could feel the deep rumble in his chest, and it sent a tremble down her spine, Sherlock felt the change in her posture, and his eyes turned hungry. Molly took his hand and led him to his beloved chair, a smirk playing on her mouth. She started taking off his clothes slowly, savouring every moment, running her fingers through his hair and down his chest.

She licked her lips before kissing where her hands had just been, and when she couldn’t reach from a standing position, she went to her knees. She pulled down the zipper of his trouser, and took hold of the waistband of them, pulling them down quickly. She rubbed her hand over his now hard cock through his pants before pulling them down too.

Her hand grabbed hold of his shaft, and she licked her way from the base to tip, before she took it fully into her mouth. Sherlocks hands had gone to her hair, and he groaned in appreciation as she ran her tongue over his length, his legs were getting wobbly, and so she pushed him down into the chair, taking his cock into her mouth once again.

She worked his balls with one hand, and ran the other up and down his prick where her mouth and tongue couldn’t reach. He pulled her away suddenly, and pulled her up for a searing kiss, pulling up at the rim of her dress to get it off of her.

His cock twitched as he watched her with hungry eyes, now only wearing her dark purple underwear, and he felt true joy when he for the first time realised that this woman was truly his, and only his. The bra and panties were soon gone from her small frame, and his cupid bows were licking every part of her body they could reach.

Molly smiled as she took hold of his cock again, straddling him, and gently leading it to her slit. She took him to the hilt in one thrust, and they shared a breathy moan as they kissed each other desperately. Molly thought of the night of their first marriage, the need and passion of it, so different from this, it was slow, a way of showing that they both knew they now had forever together.

Molly moved up and down, helped by Sherlocks hands on her hips. He kissed her collarbone before he found her hard nipples and took one them into his mouth. They rocked together in a slow rhythm, having no intentions of hurrying up their precipice.

A finger went to Molly’s clit, and Sherlock worked it beautifully, Molly pulled his hair when her orgasm coursed through her body, she sighed into Sherlocks hair, holding him close as her walls clenched around his cock. He soon followed, spilling himself into her, kissing up her neck and jaw line frantically, growling deeply from the back of his throat.

Molly slumped against Sherlocks chest, and he held her in his arms, ‘I love you Molly Hooper,’ he whispered at his smiling and sated pathologist. ‘I love you too,’ she said kissing her way up his torso, landing on his lips. He stood up from the chair, now a constant reminder for him of this night, and carried Molly to their bedroom.

They cleaned up before pulling up the sheets over their bodies; Molly was pulled flush to Sherlocks side, his arm placed protectively around her waist, and her head lying lightly on his shoulder. She gave a content sigh of happiness, and dragged her hand from his abdomen to place it over his heart, now beating only for her.


End file.
